


Surviving Espen

by Osiris_Brackhaus (Rynthjan)



Series: Bobby Dover [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Addiction, Aliens, Drugs, Espen, Explicit Language, Prostitution, Teenagers, Violence, permanent loss of main character, phoenix empire, rape mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-21
Updated: 2013-02-13
Packaged: 2017-11-10 09:46:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 27,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/464910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rynthjan/pseuds/Osiris_Brackhaus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A handful of bored human teenagers on Espen decide to use a high religious Youh’Kai holiday as a chance to gain a few more insights into their exciting, dangerous and alien society…</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Nach'Tarr's Night

**Author's Note:**

> Set in the year 5055 of the Phoenix Empire timeline.

“Damn, what the fuck took you so long?!” Wayne exclaimed as his brother arrived at their little hiding place behind the docks. “Can’t you be on time just fucking once? We almost left without you!”

“Sure you did,” Bobby snarked back, determined not to have his splendid mood be spoiled by his elder brother being an asshole. “As if you had a plan what to do with your time.”

Smiling widely, he kicked the bike he had arrived on into a corner of the clearing the teenagers had made among the junk and flotsam at the far end of the fishing docks. Down here, no one in the city could see the fire they lit in a rusted oil drum, and the wind stole the music blaring from the salvaged stereo long before anyone else would notice. Snuggled to one of the bone-gray rocks that formed the natural borders of the town and the whole bay of Lough Galyd, it was their refuge from a town that considered young people a safety hazard, and aspirations of a better life as an insult. On an old couch next to the fire, Mandy stretched and yawned, her pretty face barely visible between her wild hair, her huge scarf and the heavy black make-up.

“But to answer your question,” Bobby said while he bent down and placed a kiss on Mandy’s forehead, “I am late because I organized us some tickets for tonight!”

“Tickets? What the fuck?” his brother asked instantly. “It’s fucking Wednesday, in case you haven’t noticed. No band playing here tonight, bro.”

“Yeah. But it’s also fucking Nach’Tarr’s Night, in case you haven’t noticed. Bro.”

“Nacta what?!” Wayne spat, cracking his knuckles as if considering to give his little brother a thorough beating for no particular reason. “What the fuck?!”

“Isn’t Nach’Tarr one of those Youh’Kai gods?” Mandy asked from here place on the couch, lighting a cigarette. “He is, isn’t he?”

“Fucking demon worshippers, all of them aliens,” Wayne remarked, still not really convinced. “Fucking crazy beetle eaters.”

Bobby only rolled his eyes in response. His brother was a caring and loving person, Bobby reminded himself, but only once you got past the brutish, xenophobe, thieving, dumb-as-a-brick and oh-so-manly exterior.

Right then, the blanket on the couch next to Mandy started giggling, and a moment later Ed and Kiki emerged; the only real couple of their little gang.

“Hey there,” Bobby greeted the ‘newcomers’ on the couch, “So nice for you to join us.”

Ed gave him a brief nod, while Kiki completely ignored him and borrowed Mandy’s cigarette. Both looked so flushed that Bobby wondered if they merely had been making out under there. But then again, he didn’t really want to know, so he took off his backpack and produced a small white box.

“What’s that?” Wayne asked, frowning as he recognized the logo on the lid. “Fuck you, Bobby, have you been sucking off that fucking doctor again for free?”

“He’s not a doctor, he’s an optician,” Bobby explained for what felt to him like the hundredth time. “And I haven’t been sucking him off for free, I just didn’t take money from him.”

“Oh damn, you’re gross, Bobby, you know that?” Dimple’s voice came from atop a pile of driftwood that had gathered around an old, capsized freight container that formed one of the ‘walls’ of their hideaway. His speech was slurred and overly giddy, making clear he had been smoking dakka again. “You really should worry about your boyfriend, Mandy. I think he’s cheating on you.”

Everyone around the fire chuckled politely at Dimple’s stale joke. They all knew perfectly well that Bobby was as gay as they come, and that him being with Mandy was a pact of mutual protection, nothing more.

Officially, it was no longer a problem if boys liked boys. But this was Espen, and things here had always been a little different.

A few steps away from him, Bobby could see that Wayne’s crude expression was slipping, replaced by genuine concern. Growing up a gay boy here in Bellingham, at the northern fringe of civilized Espen, was dangerous enough. Being as pretty as Bobby made it doubly dangerous. And despite everything, Wayne was fiercely protective of his little brother, even if they were only two years apart. So with a tiny smile, Bobby flashed him his ‘don’t worry, I was careful’ expression before he started explaining his plans for tonight.

“As I said, tonight the Youh’Kai celebrate the night of Nach’Tarr.”

“Gesundheit!” Dimple interrupted him from his perch above, this time earning some honest chuckles.

“He is one of their most important gods, he is the guardian of the dead and the keeper of secrets.”

“Yeah. And a total party animal.” Wayne interjected deadpan. “Anyone want a beer?!”

For am moment, everyone shouted at the same time, mostly complaining that apparently, Wayne had managed to hide a six-pack of beer from the others so far. But he shared eagerly, now that his brother was here.  
Mandy, who wasn’t so much of a drinker, used the ensuing silence to ask:

“I remember my dad telling me that all his Youh’Kai workers took a day off today and tomorrow. It must be a big thing, then, this night, huh?”

Bobby replied with a vigorous nod. “As I said, it’s one of their most important celebrations.”

“And what’s that gotta do with us?” Wayne replied, slightly mollified now that he had a can of beer in each hand. “I mean, it’s not as if they’d ever allow a human into their ghetto. And I sure as hell won’t try and disguise me as some Youh’Kai, they’ll smell us out and kick our asses into next week.”

“Yeah, they kick some major ass,” Ed concluded grimly. “If they don’t kill and eat us outright.”

“That’s why it’s gotta be tonight!” Bobby exclaimed, beaming with excitement. Ever since he overheard a Youh’Kai conversation last time the aliens had celebrated Nach’Tarr’s night, he had been planning for this. “If we do it right, they’ll have to invite us in, and even be nice to us.”

All around the fire, he was met with looks that were cautiously optimistic at best.

“No, really, listen. The Youh’Kai believe all kinds of crap and are, like, the most superstitious idiots you know, right?”

Everyone nodded.

“So, tonight, some of them will dress up as demons and monsters. You know, some evil shit that really scares them. And then they walk around and knock at each other’s door and demand their blood.”

“Fucking. Crazy. Aliens.” Wayne remarked flatly, followed by a respectable belch. Calmly, he threw the empty can into the fire and opened the next one.

“Yeah, but instead giving them their blood, they try to haggle with the monster and then they settle for inviting the monster in and sharing dinner with them.”

“So,” Mandy asked, grimacing wildly, “you say that if we dress up as something that scares them, they’ll invite us for dinner in the ghetto?”

“Yes.”

“Awesome.”

“They’ll fucking eat us.” Ed really didn’t sound convinced, but his girlfriend looked positively thrilled at the prospect of getting a look inside the rumour-riddled underground Youh’Kai compound.

“I LOVE the idea!” Dimple yelled from his place on top of the container, struggling to stand up straight. “I’ll dress as a clown. Everyone’s afraid of clowns!”

“Ah - I don’t think that’s what Bobby meant, “ Mandy tried to intervene. “Scary, not stupid.”

“Great. So what’s a freaking beetle eater afraid of?” Wayne snapped belligerently. “An exterminator?”

“‘Course not.” Bobby replied, not quite sure how to present his brilliant idea. “But it’s gotta be something really good, something even we are afraid of.”

“I’m not afraid of nothing!” Wayne reflexively snapped back, only to break out laughing. “Fuck you, Bobby, stop dickteasing us. I know you’ve got a plan, I mean, I am the handsome brother and you’re the smart one, after all.”

That finally earned him a round of laughter all around. While by no means ugly, Wayne’s short built, his freckles, short-buzzed ginger hair and slightly stick-out ears made him look like a troll next to his rather elfish brother. A studmuffin troll, but still.

“Sure I do.” Taking a deep breath, Bobby realized that his heart was beating in his throat. His idea was scaring him a little, too, after all. “I... okay, let’s make this a test. I start dressing up, and if you get scared, it’s the right costume, okay?”

His friends nodded, albeit slightly doubtful. How could they know that Bobby had found a costume that he barely dared putting on himself? Mandy was the only one who looked rather intrigued.  
Even though their relationship was strictly platonic, she trusted him like no one else. If he said he had something that would scare even the cold-blooded Youh’Kai, she was curious to find out what it was.

“Come on, Mandy, you gotta help me.” Bobby said lightly, turning back to his backpack, fetching two more small boxes. Throwing one to his girlfriend, he said: “Here, you can brush my hair while I paint my face.”

Curious, Mandy examined the box in her hands, only to exclaim:

“Holy shit, a colouring comb? Where’d you got the creds for that?”

“I don’t. ‘Nicked it from Justine’s.”

Colouring combs were small hairbrushes, saturated with some enzymes and chemicals that turned your hair a different colour while brushing them. Nothing really permanent, but for a few days, it looked perfectly real. Those things were godawfully expensive, but then again, that’s what shoplifting skills were there for. Smiling widely, Bobby pulled his sweater over his head and opened his braid, shaking out his long hair.

Like his brother, he was fair-skinned and red-haired. But while Wayne’s hair had remained the same carrot colour they both had had as small children, Bobby’s had turned a ridiculously rich shade of foxy red. Together with his apple-green eyes and willowy frame, he cut a striking shape indeed. Not a good way of staying unnoticed, but tonight, it would be perfect for once.

Calmly, Bobby settled down on the ground in front of the couch, and while Mandy started to brush his hair, he began to apply a thin sheen of white body-paint on his face and upper body. A few minutes later, his long fiery mane had turned into a glossy black curtain of perfectly straight hair, while his skin looked even paler than usual.

“Wayne, there’s some chrome trim in my backpack,” Bobby said while checking his make-up in the small rear-view mirror of the bike he had ‘borrowed’ to get here. “You’re good with metal - could you bend it to smooth circle for me?”

“You’re looking like an idiot,” Wayne mumbled in response. Yet, he walked over to the backpack and found the narrow strip of metal after some rummaging. “Damn’, where’d you get that from? It’s brand new! You didn’t fucking swipe Oscar’s garage, did you?”

Of course he hadn’t taken it from Oscar’s. The guy might be a complete failure and a perverted groper. But he was also one of the very few grown-ups who actually treated the kids like real people, not like some problem in need of containing.

“Just fell off some car at a red light.”

“Yeah, sure.” Silently, Wayne looked around until he found some old metal pipe that apparently was the tool he had been looking for. With a few deft motions, he turned the trim into a circlet and handed it over to his brother. “You still look like an idiot.”

“Not much longer.” Smiling, Bobby took the circlet and put it onto his head, above the ears and underneath his hair until it fit like a very narrow tiara. Once again feeling his heart pumping in his throat, Bobby started braiding the hair over his temples back along the circlet.

“Bobby. What are you doing?” Kiki’s wary voice showed him that she finally had caught on what he was trying to do here. “That fucking looks like the fucking Emperor’s crown...”

Suddenly, everyone stared at Bobby, stunned wordless by the sheer audacity.

No one said a word as Bobby silently pulled a black bed sheet out of his backpack and tied it around his shoulders until it looked like an asymmetrical cloak. Even though he was nervous enough to run around the fire a few times, screaming, Bobby managed to keep his face straight. He knew that his outfit was only one half of the costume. The other half depended on him being able to pull this off.

Forcing himself to remain calm, Bobby opened the white box he had fetched from the optician today. Sure, he hadn’t taken any money from the old geezer. But he damn hell had made sure his services were paid handsomely.  
Inside the box, there were two custom-made contacts. Not that anything was wrong with his eyes, but these would turn his eyes a freaking bright purple, with irises larger than any human usually should have.  
Just like the eyes of Emperor Gregorious, the all-seeing psychic who had ruled the Phoenix Empire until two-and-a-half decades ago. Eyes like the ones of the Emperor no-one dared to put up a portrait of even today, scared that his supernatural sight would allow him to spy on everyone through his image.

Swiftly, he put in the contacts like he had learned this afternoon. Turning back around to his friends, he almost squealed in delight at their horrified expressions.

“Don’t you think you should kneel in front of your Emperor?” Bobby asked, trying for a soft, subtly threatening voice like he imagined an all-powerful clairvoyant Emperor would talk like. Together with his ramrod-straight posture, he was sure he was doing quite a decent impression.

It took his friends several heartbeats to get out of their stupor. Wayne was the first one to react, and this time, his voice didn’t have any of his usual, fake manlyness about it.

“Get out of that!” he snapped harshly. “You’ll fucking get all of us killed!”

“We knew you would say that,” Bobby replied in perfect keeping with his persona.

“Are you fucking crazy?” Ed chimed in, his hand almost involuntarily making a sign against the evil eye. “You can’t pretend being a noble, they’ll thread you through a wheel or some shit!”

With a few swift steps, Wayne was standing next to his brother, his face red with anger.

“Get those eyes off!” he ordered, his hands twitching as if about to beat the costume off his brother. “NOW!”

Instead of arguing, Bobby just gave his brother the coldest, haughtiest stare he could come up with. He had to convince his friends before he would dare to walk over to the aliens, and that meant convincing his brother first.

Caught in Bobby’s artificially enhanced gaze, Wayne didn’t get another word out. Instead, he hesitantly raised a fist, but when Bobby realized Wayne’s lower lip trembling in stress, he decided it was enough.

“You look afraid”, he remarked coldly. “As we promised.”

For a moment longer, the brothers stared at each other, but then Bobby couldn’t keep straight any longer and broke into a wide smile.

“I TOLD you, you would be scared!” he shouted triumphantly, pretty much destroying any illusion of nobility or danger he might have had. “I TOLD you!”

“Fuck you, Bobby!” Wayne shouted back, with palpable relief. “FUCK YOU!”

“So we agree?” Bobby asked, his jubilant mood making him positively giddy. “It’s scary enough to give it a try? We go to the ghetto tonight?”

“Well, if they risk the Emperor’s wrath,” Wayne remarked dryly, “those aliens are fucking crazier than I ever thought.”

\---

The few Youh’Kai that lived in Bellingham had taken refuge in an old air-raid shelter, a relic of the Second Succession War somewhere on the fringe of downtown near the port. In the middle of a warehouse district and well away from any ‘proper’ human settlement, no one really cared what the aliens did there, living in the caverns underground, praying to their heathen gods. No one really knew why the shelter was called the ghetto these days, but then again, nobody really cared. At least, no human.

The only visible structure of the ghetto was the heavily fortified entrance door that emerged from the ground in a massive wedge of concrete. Usually, the door was open at all times, with one or two aliens standing guard. But tonight, the heavy doors were closed, the alleyway completely deserted.

When Bobby and his friends arrived at the alleyway, they couldn’t suppress a slight feeling of disappointment at seeing the entrance to the ghetto locked and unlit. All children in town wondered what life among the Youh’Kai would be like, and rumours ranged all the way from the traumatic to the romantic. But tonight, the only trace of the excitingly alien aliens was a wind chime made from hollow insect shells, dangling from the drainpipe of an adjacent warehouse, filling the cool night air with its unsettling sounds.

“You really think they’ll let us in?” Ed asked, his quivering voice betraying his queasiness. “It damn hell looks like they don’t want any visitors.”

“’Course they don’t WANT any visitors, idiot.” Excited as he was, Bobby’s reply came out cattier than he had intended to. “But still inviting us in is the whole idea of Nach’Tarr’s Night. They’ll damn as hell try to send us away, but we’ll have to stay determined.”

Ed’s grimace left no doubt that he knew a million places he’d rather be right now. But Bobby didn’t let one coward spoil this opportunity. After all, Wayne was still with him, and actually sporting a tiny, wicked smile. He perhaps wasn’t the brightest bulb in the shop, but even he appreciated the irony of forcing the Youh’Kai to invite them in by playing one of their silly superstitious games.

A swift glance to Mandy confirmed that she was also very much looking forward to learn if and how the Youh’Kai reacted on their stunt, and that was all the encouragement Bobby needed.

So with a calm motion, as if he had never done anything else in his life, he re-arranged his makeshift cloak, straightened his newly black hair and checked if his crown was still sitting properly. Then he took the last steps towards the rusted metal doors of the ghetto and knocked.

For a long moment, nothing happened.

“I think you’ll have to knock harder,” Mandy remarked encouragingly.

“They won’t open anyway,” Ed said with faint hope. “Let’s call it off.”

“Fuck you,” Wayne snapped back. “Knock harder.”

This time, Bobby banged his fist against the doors, resulting in a low, reverberating sound. Only a few moments later, he could hear a muttering voice behind the door, and the scraping sound of a heavy bolt being removed.  
Slowly, the door swung open outwards, and dull orange light filled the street. Suddenly, faint music was in the air, heavy with drums, and the scent of weird spices and smoke crept out of the shelter.

In the frame of the door, a male Youh’Kai was standing, easily a head taller than Bobby. He had his hair slicked back with some kind of gel and his whole body was painted glossy black. Around his waist, he had two sets of stuffed stockings attached; apparently attempting to look like four more legs. From his wrists, two long, sickle-shaped blades made from silver-painted cardboard were dangling, and there were two additional sets of red eyes painted on his forehead above his real ones.  
Youh’Kai never looked exactly reassuring to humans under the best of circumstances, to say the least. But for some reason, this was… particularly unsettling.

But Bobby managed to keep his face straight and his posture as arrogant as possible.

“We come for your blood!” he exclaimed majestically. “Surrender!”

For a hearbeat, the Youh’Kai stared at Bobby in priceless disbelief. Then his features hardened, and he yelled:

“Fucking Softskins! Get lost!”

But Bobby didn’t even dream of letting the alien get out of this so easily.

“We come for your blood,” he repeated, trying to give his best imperous stare. “Surrender.”

“You fucking little piece of shit!” the Youh’Kai replied, trying hard to sound unaffected. “This has nothing to do with you humans. Get lost, or I’ll make you.”

Without any further discussion, the alien tried to close the door again, but swiftly, Bobby slipped a foot in between.

“You know who We are,” he exclaimed ominously, “and you know what will happen to you if you send Us away.”

For a long moment, the Youh’Kai only stared at Bobby, his lower lip working soundlessly. Then, with a sound that could have been either a sigh or a hiss, he said:

“Fuck YOU! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!” Grabbing one of the cardboard blades from his wrists, he pointed the thing at Bobby’s face with a threatening stare. “I can’t decide that. Stay here. Don’t move!”

And then he left, down the dimly lit staircase visible beyond the slightly opened door.

“I really think we should go now,” Ed said petulantly, only to get whacked by his girlfriend.

“Didn’t you listen?!” Kiki snapped, “he’s fetching someone to decide. It’s working.”

“He’s fetching a whole gang of them to beat us up, that’s all…”

But except Ed, no-one shared his concerns. Wayne and the girls looked positively excited, and Dimples, well, he was intently staring at the wind chime. Bobby wisely chose not to investigate any further.

It took quite a while, but even waiting at the open door was fascinating enough. The music they could hear from below was unlike anything they had heard before, rhythmic and pounding, simple and yet full of energy. The air coming out of the shelter was warm and humid, and redolent with incense and sharp, spicy and surprisingly tasty notes. Then, finally, they could hear people walk up the stairs, and voices arguing in the depths.

“… some fucking softskins!” the male Youh’Kai who had opened the door exclaimed. “We can’t let them inside - if anything happens to them, we’re screwed!”

“I know we don’t need another police raid down here.” A female voice this time, calmer but no less alarmed. “But this is Nach’Tarr’s Night, after all, and monsters are bound to come knocking.”

Finally, the Youh’Kai arrived at the door, the two Bobby had overheard talking on the stairs and a whole bunch of others behind them. As soon as the woman saw Bobby in his costume, she cursed loudly in the guttural language of the Youh’Kai.  
She was a little smaller than the guy who had opened the door, and also costumed. But her outfit looked rather normal, except from the two dark wings she had attached to her back with shoulder straps and the large broom with a bloodied handle she was carrying.

“Oh you gotta be kidding me,” she finally said after the initial shock had subsided. “Please kids, this is no joke. Go home.”

“We come for your blood,” Bobby re-affirmed once more, noticing with a certain satisfaction how her eyes widened in surprise. “Surrender.”

Defensively, the Youh’Kai woman wedged her broom over the doorstep, obviously acting more on her instincts than anything else.

“K’rina?” Mandy asked from behind Bobby, recognizing the Youh’Kai woman as a member of the cleaning crew of her father’s shop. “K’rina, is that you?”

For a moment, the alien’s stern expression wavered.

“Hi Mandy,” she finally replied with a shy wave, yet never taking her eyes off Bobby. “Could you please call back your friend here?”

“No.” Mandy replied, an edge of amazement in her voice. She knew that Youh’Kai were superstitious like shit, but she had never realized how bad it actually was. So, adding what little she knew about the aliens, she said: “We are of his clan. He leads, we follow.”

“We come for your blood,” Bobby stated again, this time trying to use the proper Youh’Kai words. “Surrender!”

This time, K’rina almost flinched at the expression, though Bobby was sure if that was because she was afraid or because he had totally mangled the pronunciation.

“You can’t be thinking of letting them in,” the male Youh’Kai urged on K’rina. “It’ll only lead to bloodshed.”

As if her companion had said something brilliantly new, K’rina turned around, intently studying his black-painted face.

“You sound as if you’re afraid…” she said softly, smiling wickedly.

For another long moment, the two aliens just looked at each other, serious and questioning, until K’rina started chuckling softly.

“Alright.” she said, turning back to Bobby again. She took a deep breath before she formally exclaimed: “My blood is mine; only spilled in my choosing. But I see your claim. Will food and drink be enough to appease you for another year?”

With a sudden, sinking feeling, Bobby realized that he had never overheard the proper reply to K’rina’s offer. But then again, he decided that as a human emperor, he didn’t really have to stick to Youh’Kai customs in every detail.

“If you invite my clan along with Us, We will be appeased,” he finally replied, hoping he had at least hit the right mix of politeness and arrogance that was required of his role.

“If you can enter, you shall be welcome,” K’rina replied evenly, pointing at the broom that was still leaning across the entrance.

Apparently, the bloodied broom had some significance for the Youh’Kai, but as far as Bobby could see, it was just an average broom with some red paint on the handle. Rumours of Youh’Kai magic were a milla a dozen, but then again, rumours shouldn’t be overrated. Why the hell should a cleaning lady be carrying a real magic broom with her, anyway?

So he just stepped ahead and picked up the broom, startled as the Youh’Kai on the other side actually flinched away, almost as if expecting some kind of massive explosion. But nothing happened.

“Here’s your broom,” Bobby said friendly, his persona all but forgotten at the slightly nervous expressions of the aliens on the other side of the door. “I promise we’re not here for trouble. We’re just curious.”

“I see…” K’rina replied, taking back her broom with only the slightest hesitation. “Well, seems you and your ‘clan’ are welcome here tonight.”

“Thank you,” Bobby replied and stepped inside, gesturing his friends to follow him. “That’s really cool, inviting us for tonight.”

“Don’t be so sure of yourself, softskin,” K’rina replied with returning assertiveness, her wide smile revealing two rows of very white, very pointy teeth. “Just make one wrong move, and we’ll eat you!”


	2. Bonfire Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This year, the Festival of Lights turns out way different than what Bobby had planned...

With a pathetic, little slurping sound, the water swallowed the stone Bobby had thrown. Ripples spread out on the otherwise smooth sea, breaking the moon’s reflection into countless little pieces. But already a few moments later, the ripples ran out, and the sea lay as flat and black as before, as if nothing had ever happened.

With a deep sigh, Bobby leaned back, looking up to the stars.

It was the Festival of Lights, tonight, and like every year, it was miserable.

It was supposed to be a celebration of hope, love and family, of giving gifts and counting one’s blessings. But without a family to speak of, the Festival of Light was just an especially lonely night, perfect to feel miserable for oneself.

Initially, Bobby and Wayne had hoped they would be able to spend tonight at home, but that hope hadn’t survived long. Mum had been drunk since the late morning, yelling and complaining and being even more cruel than usual. In the end, Wayne had stormed out of their tiny flat, red with anger, slamming the door so hard one of the hinges broke out of the wall. In a way, that still improved on a few years ago, when he had first knocked their mother unconscious and then stormed out, only to return three days later with a black eye and bruises all over.

So for the rest of the afternoon, Bobby had tried to rescue as much as possible. Mainly, that consisted of handing his mother an extra large bottle of gin that he had stashed away for such an occasion. Two hours later, she was snoring on the couch, drool dribbling down her chin. Even though his hopes for a nice evening with the family had been thoroughly dashed, it still could have been a calm evening.

But then Bethany, their younger sister, suddenly ‘remembered’ that she had been invited over for dinner by one of her schoolmates. Bobby hadn’t stopped her when she left their place in a rush. Most probably, she wasn’t even lying. She was the one who had some real friends here in town, after all. Real girls from decent families that invited her for sleepovers and birthdays. Not just a few lost kids she hung out with every now and then, like her elder brothers.

Bethany had barely been out of the house when the twins proclaimed they’d rather go to their school’s festival instead of eating at home, alone with Bobby and the fat, smelly pile of drunken woman on the couch. The twins were actually Edward and Richard, Ed and Ricky, respectively. But everyone just called them ‘the twins’, which worked just as well as they were literally inseparable. So with a sinking heart, he had helped them find their parkas and brought them down to the bus station where they hopped onto the next one going for the public school they were enrolled at. Watching the bus disappear around the corner, Bobby decided he didn’t have the heart to spend the night at home. It would have been just too depressing.

So he hadn’t even returned to their two-bedroom community housing flat. Instead, Bobby had just walked down the road, aimless at first. After a while, he had wondered if maybe some of his friends were having miserable evenings as well. Maybe they were at their hideout behind the port, and he could meet them there. Some nights shouldn’t be spent alone, after all.

But when Bobby arrived at their hideaway, he found the place just as deserted as the rest of town. Cold and dark, the bright moonlight casting stark shadows across the emptiness. So he had crawled up between some rocks, looking over the sea that tonight lay flat and black like some sinister mirror, and started throwing stones. It wasn’t the best way to spend this night, but it still beat listening to his mother snoring by a mile.

Next year this time, he’d already be looking for a job, Bobby realized. Come spring, he’d start his last year at school, and he was supposed to get a job directly afterwards. Which, here in Bellingham, either meant working at the stockfish processing plant, or getting very, very lucky.

The thought of a life at the plant scared Bobby more than he would have thought possible.

Looking up to the stars above, Bobby gave a deep sigh that feathered white in the icy air. The Empire was expanding in every direction, and he was supposed to stay here? On this recalcitrant backwater planet that was so desperately clinging to its glorious past? He was young, he was reasonably smart and quite pretty. There had to be other options than a job at the stockfish plant, for heaven’s sake.

Right then, he heard soft steps behind him.

“Bobby?” he heard Mandy’s familiar voice calling out. “Bobby, are you here somewhere?”

“Over here!” he replied, getting up from his little hole among the rocks. “Here.”

“There you are.” Mandy seemed even more wrapped up than usual, a thick knit scarf wrapped around her neck so often it obscured her silhouette almost completely. With a few quick steps, she walked over to Bobby, hugging him tightly. “Radiant Light to you.”

“Radiant Light.” He replied automatically, trying not to show how gloomy he actually felt. But of course, his ‘girlfriend’ looked right through him.

Mandy just gave him a long look from her dark eyes.

“I though you might be here when no one opened the door at your place. Was it very bad this year?”

“It’s been worse.” It wasn’t even a lie, and still the expression felt ridiculous compared to how it had felt. “What are you doing here anyway? Weren’t you supposed to be with your Dad?”

“I was, and it was actually quite sweet.” Mandy smiled indulgently, like so often when she talked about her father. “He started fidgeting even before pudding. You know how he is when he is inspired. So I sent him to the garage, and he took off like a four-year-old. I think this time, he’s welding something huge.”

“You and your Dad,” Bobby said with gentle mocking, still holding Mandy in his arms. “Has he ever sold anything of that weird shit he makes?”

“Hey! That’s no weird shit, that’s art.” Slapping Bobby, Mandy smiled widely. “And he hasn’t made a single milla ever out of that stuff.”

Calmly, Bobby shook his head. Ever since Mandy’s mother had died a few years ago, she had been the voice of reason in their household. Her father was sweet and caring, but a complete airhead and definitely not qualified to run a business, even a small one. If it weren’t for Mandy and a few trustworthy employees, he’d give away all he owned just because someone asked him nicely.

“Oh, before I forget...” Mandy said suddenly, wriggling out of Bobby’s embrace. From the depths of her voluminous jacket, she produced two packs of pleated paper and two small candles. “Here, one is for you.”

“What is this?” Bobby asked, carefully turning the thick paper in his hands.

“Floating paper flowers” she replied, wriggling her eyebrows. “It’s how they celebrate the Festival on Malicorne.”

“We’re on Espen.”

“Oh, shut up, Bobby.” Smiling, Mandy took his hand and pulled him towards the rocks, down to the waterfront. “I think it’s a beautiful idea, and I’ve been waiting for years for a Festival night that wasn’t rainy as fuck.”

Intrigued, Bobby watched as his girlfriend gently opened the paper packs that unfolded into beautiful, many-petaled ivory flowers. Mandy placed a candle into each, struggling ever so slightly lighting them without burning the flowers. Finally, she handed one over to Bobby, nodding solemnly.

“There is a spring to the longest of winters,” she started reciting the old-fashioned prayer of lights. “There is a dawn to the longest of nights. Where ever in darkness I wander, my heart holds the radiant light.”

Looking at Mandy holding her candle in both hands, Bobby realized that she probably hadn’t planned on doing this together with him.

“You wanted to do this with your father, didn’t you?”

Mandy blinked at him, hesitant, and then nodded slowly without looking at Bobby.

“Now we have to put them into the water, so the flowers carry our hopes with them, to shine in the night.”

Seeing how Mandy was so sensitive and so strong at the same time made Bobby smile proudly. Maybe they were only together so people stopped picking on them. But he couldn’t have wished for a better girlfriend even if he had tried.

They put their paper flowers into the silent water of Lough Galyd, watching arm in arm as the two lights drifted out into the open bay.

“This is very beautiful. Thank you for sharing this with me.”

“Even though you were second choice?”

“Even though.” Following the two flowers out on the water, he added: “You think we’ll ever see it in person?”

“What?”

“The lights on Malicorne. There must be thousands of candles on the water there, it must be gorgeous.”

“That would be wonderful.” she replied, snuggling closer against Bobby. “I’m sure you’ll see it one day.”

“Just me? I want you to be there with me.”

“Maybe I will. But I am at home here.” Now looking at Bobby, she added: “You’ve always been too different for this dump of a place. Your future is out there among the stars.”

She had a point there, Bobby was well aware of that. But it still hurt hearing her say so.

“Don’t say that. I don’t want to leave you.”

Mandy was just about to open her mouth to reply as the unmistakeable sound of a moped cut through the otherwise silent night. The two shared a questioning glance. Usually, this part of the harbour was pretty much deserted, much more so on festival night.

The moped drove with high speed until it reached the fireplace of their little hideaway, where it stopped with wheels scratching across the gravel.

“BOBBY?!”

Unmistakeably Wayne’s voice, roaring into the night.

“We’re here!” Bobby replied. “Coming!”

Mandy’s wordless question was replied with an equally wordless shrug by Bobby. They had no idea what his older brother was doing here. Wayne had left school this summer, and had been one of the lucky few not ending up as a trainee in the stockfish factory. He was now working at Oscar’s garage, repairing cars and bikes and the occasional machinery. Oscar was a leering pervert, but he was a fair employer and gave Wayne a proper education on the job. And he had found him the old moped that Wayne was using of late. It was a lousy, rusted thing, but functional, and gave Wayne even more opportunities to act all tough and manly.

So it was little wonder that when Bobby and Mandy came to the fireplace, Wayne was still straddling his moped, with his leather jacket and denims, a cigarette in the corner of this mouth, looking like a very cheap version of the roguish hero of some cheesy romance vid.

“Fuck’s sake, hurry up!” Wayne hollered. “The twins are in trouble!”

“What happened?” Bobby asked instantly.

“Idiots torched their school.” Wayne spat. “Fucking good job, if you ask me. But they shouldn’t have invited all their friends to watch it burn.”

“They what?”

“Invited the whole school. Proper Bonfire Night, they said.”

“By the Emperor...”

Bonfire Night had been the name of the Festival of Lights on Espen before the war. But when the van der Meer took over, they abolished the huge fires and demanded a ‘proper’ Festival. Preferably with electric candles. Fucking idiots, all of them.

“Is the police there already?” Bobby asked.

“Nope. Not yet, anyway. I came here as soon as I heard.” With a lopsided grin, he added: “Figured it’d be better to have you there. You know, someone who can talk to people without beating them up.”

“That’s awfully smart of you, brother. Who’d have thought.” Turning around to Mandy, he asked: “I’ll go with Wayne, will you be okay?”

“Just leave me here all right,” she replied with a wide grin. “I’ll find a way to get to the school on my own. See you there.”

“You’re a hero,” Bobby whispered to her before he gave her a swift parting kiss on the cheek. “Thank you for the lights.”

“Never mind,” she replied, but Bobby was sure it had meant a lot to Mandy as well. “Happy Bonfire Night, you two!”

“Good Lord!” Bobby exclaimed as he climbed onto the moped’s passenger seat, laughing at the sheer craziness of it all. “Happy Bonfire Night!”


	3. Lovers' Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unpleasant encounter on a Lovers’ Day party leads to unexpected fun...

„Bobby Dover! The prettiest cocksucker of all town, here at my party!“

Rolling his eyes, Bobby turned around to face the one person he had hoped not to meet tonight.

„I thought it was your uncle’s party, Julio? At least, it was him who invited me and my girlfriend. And it’s his house.”

“Shesh, my party, his party – we’re all a big family here, you know?”

Yes, Bobby knew all to well. Julio Mostarda’s uncle Antonio owned several discos and nightclubs in the area, and a handful of brothels on top of that. Basically, the Mostarda family had turned entertainment into a family business here in the area, and made sure the competition never gained so much as even a foothold here in the north. They were just small enough not to get into trouble with the guilds, polite enough to keep the nobles happy and violent enough to discourage anybody else.

And while his Uncle Antonio was a decent man with surprisingly good manners, Julio was just a mean little thug with too much money and a family name.

Right now, this slimy little specimen with his ridiculous, gelled-back hair studied Mandy with an expression of affected surprise.

“Your girlfriend, eh? You disappoint me, Bobby, you could do so much better.”

“You mean, I could do you?” he quipped in reply, pointedly sneaking an arm around Mandy’s waist. “Been there, done that.”

“And? Still hungering for more of the same?”

Bobby was just about to reply something politely declining as Mandy cut him short. She was a nice girl, but she didn’t quite manage to put up with idiots as well as Bobby.

“I’m really sorry that I have to break it to you, Julio. But he slept with you because otherwise you’d have drugged and raped him.” Her voice was even, cool and very sharp. “Just like all the others.”

“Hey, watch your tongue, little hobo slut!” Julio snapped instantly. Apparently, telling him the truth wasn’t the best way to get on his good side. “One more fucking word and I’ll have my men kick you out on the curb where you belong!”

“And you watch how you treat my girlfriend!” Bobby heard himself say despite trying very hard to keep his mouth shut.

“Oh yeah? Or else what? Huh?” Pushing out his chest, Julio walked up to Bobby until they were almost face to face, staring each other down. “What you gonna do, little cocksucker?”

“Boys,” Mandy said in a voice that managed to sound firm and calm and surprisingly motherly. Cautiously, she pushed her hands between the two would-be combatants, pulling them apart before it came to bloodshed. “Calm down, both of you.”

Julio gave her a withering stare, a vein on his forehead standing out with barely suppressed rage. He was a tightly wound guy, little question there.

“Please, Julio,” she continued. “We don’t want to make a scene, and surely you don’t want either. It’s your uncle’s Lovers’ Day Party, and we’re all grateful he invited us to his place.”

“Fools.” Julio hissed, almost looking as if he was about to spit on the floor. “One day, this will all be mine. One day you’re all going to work for me.”

Almost, Bobby would have countered that remark with a snide comment on his own. But Mandy pinched his arm just in time to remind him that this was not the parking lot behind their favourite disco, but the mansion of the town’s only commoner bigwig. So he remained silent, looking at his feet, doing his best of looking contrite.

“Idiots!” Julio hissed one more time, then turned around on the heels of his fancy shoes and left.

For a moment, they just stood in the hallway where Julio had crossed their way, calming their nerves and trying to regain some measure of posture. In the adjoining rooms, the party was progressing splendidly, and the sounds of music, laughter and slightly intoxicated people talking way too loudly washed over them.

“I am sorry,” Bobby finally said. “I really thought this would be a nice evening for the two of us.”

“Never mind. It’s not as if I had to sleep with the guy to prevent him from raping me.” Nudging him gently, Mandy continued with a conspiring smile. “And I fully plan on having a wonderful evening still. After all, silly little Julio is going to pay for this silly little scene.”

“What do you mean?”

Instead of an answer, Mandy produced an expensive-looking wallet from one of the many folds of her outfit. “Maybe I’m not the best pickpocket on Espen, but with you as my distraction, I’m still a hundred times too good for that stupid little shit.”

“Oh you got to be fucking kidding me!” Bobby exclaimed, torn between the terror of having Julio screaming for their hides for the rest of their lives and the utter pride in his gorgeous girlfriend. “You didn’t!”

“Sure I did. He was trying so hard to get back into your pants, I could have stolen his knickers without him noticing.”

“You’re my hero, you know that?” Bobby said softly, meaning every word. “But we can’t take the money. He’ll kill us.”

“I’m not sure he’ll even notice.” Mandy sounded not too sure herself, and with a little sigh she added: “Of course you’re right. Just a few bills, and we’ll drop the wallet near the pool where someone can find it.”

“A few bills should be fine. I really don’t think Julio knows how much he’s been carrying around, after all.”

So Mandy started rummaging through the wallet while Bobby watched her thoughtfully.

It had been a very nice gesture of Uncle Antonio inviting them for the party. He had been looking for some more handsome people to fill some gaps in his guest-list, and he had asked Bobby straight away if he wanted to come for exactly that reason. Maybe not the most romantic way of being invited, but still a great night out after all. The Mostarda mansion was one of the finest residences this side of the palace, and parties here were legendary, to say the least.  
The whole Mostarda family had come from Nabucco, a few years after the war, and they still made a big show out of being different. Which was fine with Bobby, after all they apparently were the only ones here on Espen knowing how to throw a proper party.  
If it weren’t for the occasional rotten apple on the family tree, Bobby could have actually liked them.

“Wait a minute.” Bobby suddenly said. “Hand me the wallet.”

“Why?” Mandy asked, instantly handing it over none the less.

“I think I have an idea...”

Now it was Bobby’s turn to rummage through Julio’s wallet, and it took him only a moment to find what he had been looking for.

“Jackpot!” he exclaimed, holding up what looked like little square pieces of translucent plastic. His face took on a decidedly vengeful look. “What about we dose Julio with some of his own medicine?”

“Soluble know-out drops?” Mandy asked, her eyes glittering with delighted mischief. “I think if it helps making this evening safer for a lot of other pretty boys, I can get myself to apologize for my bad manners earlier on.”

“See?” Bobby offered his arm to Mandy, who took it with a grand gesture. “And what a luck I coincidentally know Julio’s favourite drink.”

“What a lucky coincidence, indeed.” Smiling widely, Mandy kissed him onto his cheek. “May I suggest we pick up the drink at the pool bar? We still have to drop off something there, methinks.”

“Oh how wonderfully smart of you, my dear!”

No longer able to keep a straight face at their banter, the two broke into loud laughter, for the first time not feeling awkward among all the rich and beautiful people here tonight. Maybe they would never belong here, but they still were able to have great fun and enjoy themselves.

And maybe that’s what Lovers’ Day was all about, in the end.


	4. Spring Fling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Working at a holiday resort for the Spring Break rush creates a whole world of opportunities for Bobby and Wayne...

Sitting down next to the huge fire pit, Bobby wondered if he was going to end up in hell.

Sure, handing out blowjobs like candy and taking money for it was kind of questionable. But really enjoying most of them, that felt decidedly sinful.

Leaning back, he absent-mindedly fingered the bunch of credit notes in his pocket. Two-hundred and thirty credits in a single evening, more than ten times the pay he was getting for his work at the bar. The kids here at the Cairngorm Mountain Resort were crazy. Filthy rich, bored and horny, Bobby couldn’t really believe that there weren’t more of the servants working his angle.

But then again, he didn’t really care. When Wayne had come up a few weeks ago, telling Bobby he had arranged a job for the two of them in one of the posh skiing resorts up in the mountains north of Bellingham, Bobby initially hadn’t been too excited. Sure, any opportunity to earn some cash was welcome, especially during winter. But being extra waiting staff at the bar during spring break sounded like a lot of work for a little money, and they would have to pay the trip up there from their own pocket.  
Spring Break was the official end of winter season, and the resorts closed afterwards. All the rich commoner kids from down south came up here during that week, drinking and partying until they lost it. It was a wild orgy, to say the least, and usually everyone not able to spend along with them was well advised to get out of the way.

Only, Bobby had never realized just how rich those kids really were.

“Now look at you,” Wayne interrupted the musings of his little brother. “Did something naughty again?”

Looking a little exhausted, a smudge of dirt still on his cheek, Wayne dropped himself onto the bench next to Bobby. He had been relegated to hauling beer kegs up from the cellars, while Bobby was doing front of the house service. It was hard and dirty work, but neither of them minded. Wayne was happier away from people, anyway.

Their employers were relatively decent people, and they allowed their staff to mingle with the guests after their shifts, as long as they kept a low profile and no one complained about them. So the brothers were sitting here now, at the large fire pit in the central lounge of the resort, surrounded by bars and little restaurants, music thumping in the cool air, flickering lights from the dancing floors in adjacent huts glinting in the night.

“Here,” Bobby said, calmly handing his brother half the money he had made during the day. “Your share.”

“What the fuck?” Wayne growled, hesitating for a moment to take the cash. “Have you been whoring around again?”

Despite himself, Bobby found a sleazy grin spreading on his face. There was no denying it, he loved cock.

“I never took money from anyone who I wouldn’t have blown for free.”

“You’re disgusting.” Wayne remarked, though it sounded rather fond. Then, finally, he looked at the money he was holding, his eyes widening with surprise. “What the FUCK?! Bobby!?”

Still smirking, Bobby tried to calm his brother.

“I only did a few guys in the bathroom,” he explained calmly. “They just throw money at you, and I sure as hell won’t let that pass us by.”

It had been only a few guys, right. Several times, though. But apart from the one time he had been blowing three drunken fellows at once, it had been great fun.

“See it that way,” he added cockily, “at least I save a ton of money on food, too.”

“You swallow their fucking slime? Oh, gross.” Wayne wrinkled his face in disgust, only to become the concerned older brother a moment later. “You really shouldn’t. I mean, they’re sure healthy, but with all the pills they are popping constantly, there’s gonna be all kinds of weird shit in... that stuff.”

“It’s not as if I’m drinking their piss, you know,” Bobby started, but seeing Wayne’s eyes grow wide in horror, he realized he was taking the wrong way to explain things. “Don’t worry, brother. I know enough about drugs and bodily fluids to know when I’m taking risks. And I am enjoying this far too much to risk missing out on a single shift here.”

“You really shouldn’t be taking money. That can’t be healthy. You know, in your head.”

For a moment, Bobby was at a loss at what to say. As much as Wayne tried to act the crude bloke with more brawns than brains, he was still caring for Bobby in a way no one else did. He cared for his soul, even if he would never use those words. He was the best brother Bobby could wish for.

“I’ll never do anyone I wouldn’t do for free, is that good enough for you?” he asked, trying not to show how much Wayne’s remark had touched him. “I’ll never do it for the money only.”

Slightly appalled, Wayne wrinkled his face again, making it look as if the freckles on his nose were huddling together.

“You’ll screw around anyway,” he replied laconically, “can just as well rip off those filthy rich dicks running around here.”

“See, that’s my argument, too.”

Smiling, they sat there for a moment in silence. Listening to the blaring music that right now was a ululating, supposedly regional melody underscored with thumping, electric beats, more annoyingly weird than anything else. The revelers around them didn’t seem to care, dancing and drinking as they had done all evening already, not showing any signs of slowing down, only being sweatier and clumsier. Some guys and girls were actually frolicking in the snow drifts outside, shirtless all of them.

“You won’t take money in your time off, promise?” Wayne suddenly said. “If you screw around, you’ll do it just for fun, right?”

Again taken aback at his brother’s odd kind of care, Bobby only nodded without a word. Not exactly what he had planned for the rest of the evening, but not exactly bad, either.

“So, anyone in particular you like?” Wayne asked, non-chalantly ignoring the fact that so far, he had always taken great pains to ignore the fact that Bobby was ‘doing’ boys.

“Not really. The shirtless blond one, out there in the snow, with the bottle in his hand. Probably an asshole, but damn hot.”

Again, Wayne looked slightly disgusted, but not for the reason Bobby assumed.

“No, not one of those rich bastards,” he said. “Isn’t there anyone among the staff? Some poor sucker like us, someone you’d just be having a nice time with? What about that dark haired one over there? He’s been staring at your back all the time.”

“How’d you notice, of all people?”

“I’m keeping an eye on my little brother. You know, blowing guys in the toilet stall might be fun and bring in a lot of cash, but it might get you beaten up pretty fast if you end up with the wrong guy. We’re still on Espen.”

Wayne was right, of course. Bobby picked his ‘customers’ very carefully, but he wasn’t exactly immune to making mistakes. And this was Espen, where people still considered same-sex love as something perverted.

“Here,” Wayne suddenly said, producing a small, hand-rolled cigarette from one of his pockets. “What about you go over to the little dark one and ask him if he’s in the mood to share this one with you?”

Considering the conical shape of the cigarette and the sweet floral aroma that Bobby could notice even from the distance, this sure was no standard tobacco.

“Dakka?” he asked, slightly incredulous.

“Indeed. And not that cheap shit Dimples is smoking, you know? This is real. Silver tips only.”

If that was true, that small cigarette was worth almost as much as the cash Bobby had handed his brother earlier on.  
Dakka was a flower that only grew in the deepest wilderness of Serin, its blossom considered a uniquely dangerous, mind-blowing drug and available only to the nobility. The leaves, on the other hand, were a harmless, mood-enhancing drug and a light aphrodisiac, if handled properly. Mostly, though, what was available on the market was a mix of tobacco and dakka stems, if you were lucky. Often enough, there were parts of dakka root in the mix, enhancing the smell but frying your brain if you took too much of it. Their friend Dimples was silent warning to this.  
Silver tips were supposed to be only the finest tips of the leaves, sweet and perfectly free of side-effects.

“Where’d you get this one?”

“Fell out of the pocket of some rich guy.” Wayne replied, not entirely credible. “Couldn’t find him again, so I thought it was a case of finders, keepers.”

“It’ll sure make a nice conversation starter…”

“See, that’s my little brother.” Deftly slapping Bobby on the shoulder, Wayne gestured in the direction they had last seen the cute, dark haired waiter. “Now be off, have fun. And don’t forget, don’t take any money!”

Laughing, Bobby nodded and left towards the bar, casting one last look over his shoulder at his brother still sitting near the fire. This was a crazy world he was living in, but with a brother like that, nothing could really go wrong, could there?


	5. Endgame

“Mom? Mom, we need to talk.”

The cold morning air was wafting into the bedroom of Bobby’s mother through the open window. The fishy smell from the factory easily overpowered the stale odor of cheap booze and unwashed woman.

For the hundredths time, Bobby wondered if he would be able to see this through. He just wanted to crawl up somewhere and die. His whole body was throbbing with pain, the right side of his face scabby and swollen.

“Mom, get up!”

“Where’s – where’s my medication?”

“Mom, for heaven’s sake, it’s no medication. We all know you’ve just rebottled the vodka.”

For a moment, his mother just stared at him from glassy eyes, her thin hair plastered to her head as if wet.

“Something bad happened, Mom. Something really bad.”

Wiping her pale face, his mother seemed to clear up for a moment, but then she just frowned at the brown bottle Bobby was still holding in his hands.

“Give me that medicine, you lousy thief! You really think you can treat me like this? After all that I’ve done for you, you just want me to die? Do you even know how much I am in pain? I have given my everything for you, and this is what I get?! You ungrateful little bastard! GIVE ME THAT BOTTLE!”

Despite everything, Bobby felt tears well up in his eyes. He had known he’d face another barrage of verbal abuse from his mother. He knew she was just ill, and that it was the addiction talking, not her.

But after what had happened over the last twelve hours, it was just too much to bear.

\---

“Go Wyndham-on-the-Moor! Go White Coats! Go Wyndham-on-the-Moor! White Coats rock!”

When they emerged from the dark corridors of the stadium, the summer air vibrated with the White coats battle cry. Thousands of fans from all over the planet were waving white flags or the white shirts they had taken off, laughing under their white face paint, showering each other with whatever drinks they had left. The golden summer sun was setting on a sea of faces all grinning with joy.

The White Coats had won the Espen Soccer Championships 5056.

It had been a historic, upset victory, with the underdog from the northern counties winning match after match even though they were clearly outfunded by the other teams. They couldn’t afford any of the star players like the other clubs, nor did they have training facilities even remotely as professional as their opponents.

But they had the better team, their coordination and enthusiasm unmatched.

“Go Wyndham-on-the-Moor! Go White Coats! Go Wyndham-on-the-Moor! White Coats rock!”

Beaming with joy, Bobby looked over his shoulder where he could make out his brother’s red hair in the crowd. Together with a thousand other fans, they were pushed out towards the security gates, slowly, passing the time chanting and yelling and generally celebrating that ‘their’ team had won.

It was the first time that a soccer team from the poor north of Espen had managed to secure a place among the final sixteen. The excitement had been massive from the very beginning. But once they had managed to proceed to the quarter finals, they had ignited a veritable bushfire of fan support.

Even sedate Bellingham had been caught up in the excitement. After all, the White Coats were from Wyndham-on-the-Moor, only a hundred miles east. It hadn’t taken long for Bobby, Wayne and their friends to find themselves together with a several hundred other fans on the market place in front of a giant holoscreen, hooting and cheering for ‘their’ team. For once, it didn’t matter if they had money or not, or if they belonged to a guild or a powerful family. It was a feeling like never before, and everyone just seemed to revel in it.

And the White Coats just kept on winning.

After the semi finals, when it was clear that the Wyndham White Coats would compete for the title, Wayne and Bobby had hatched the idea to see the match life. It was a crazy thought, exhilarating and madly expensive. But both of them had saved quite a bit of the money they had made this spring at the Cairngorm Mountain Resort. It would burn up almost all their resources, but the finals were in Quedlinborough, the northern capital, only six hours away from them. If they ever were to see a planetary soccer championship live in the stadium, now would be the chance.

It was a once-in-your-lifetime event, and with the chance of the White Coats actually taking the title, it was just too much of an opportunity to miss. So Bobby and his brother had pooled their remaining money and bought two tickets and a cheap train trip for the final.

And right now, pulled along by the tide of chanting fans, they were convinced it had been the right decision.

“We’re from Wyndham-on-the-Moor, sha-la-la-la-la, Wyndham’s White Coats on-the-Moor, Shaa La-la-la-la-la!”

The drifting sea of fans was pushing Wayne closer to Bobby again, now that they were coming closer to the gates. Laughing, Wayne reached out and handed his little brother a can of beer. His white face paint had washed off mostly, and his flushed skin seemed bright pink against the pale rim of remaining make up. His ears were almost as red as his hair.

“Best match ever!” he shouted over the din, “Best. Match. Ever!”

Bobby answered with a carefree laugh, toasting him with the beer he had just been given.

“Best party ever!” he yelled back. “And it’s just starting!”

That brought another round of cheers from all bystanders. Everyone was going to party tonight, all of downtown becoming one large celebration.

Wayne slipped through another group of milling fans, finally ending up next to his little brother. Jovially, he put his arm around Bobby’s shoulders, grinning.

“So, what about we find ourselves a nice pub downtown near the station and continue to get hammered until our train leaves?”

“Sounds just right to me.” With a sleazy grin of his own, Bobby added: “But you shouldn’t get too drunk, though. There’s a lot of pretty girls around who are in a mood to party.”

It took Wayne a moment or two to get what his little brother was hinting at. But when he did, he laughed out loud.

“Don’t worry for the ladies,” he said, grabbing his crotch for emphasis. “Some parts of me work just fine even when I’m completely pissed.”

Still hugging, they were now pushed through the security gates on their way out. Obviously, checking fans when they left the stadium was utter nonsense. But this was Espen, and the guards were nothing if not thorough, just like their van der Meer masters. They were also absolutely unable to understand the concept of having fun, but right now, no one in the cheering and chanting crowd cared.

They left the stadium and its mirthless gray guards behind, following the throng of fans into the old city center. It only took them a few minutes to get to the central square between the train station and the arena, but when they arrived, the party there was already in full swing.

It seemed like every house surrounding the square had a pub or a restaurant on street level, at least for today. Everywhere, chairs and tables had been put outside, a sea of fans in white and red as far as the brothers could see. Judging by the din, the party extended way down the roads that led away from the square, different songs and yelled slogans washing over them and receding like waves on a beach.

All around, beer was ordered and served, though not necessarily in that order. More often than not, both Bobby and Wayne paid for rounds that never came. But considering the many other free drinks they got while waiting, it was a pretty sweet deal.

Laughing, cheering and singing, they drifted along with the crowd, the glasses in their hands never empty for long.

“This must be how it feels like on other planets.” Wayne remarked, his voice coarse from the shouting and slightly slurred from the beers.

“What? Being pissed?”

“No, I mean,” Wayne started, but broke off laughing. “Pissing.”

Still laughing at his own joke, he pointed into a mostly deserted dead-end alleyway, where a handful of other revelers were pissing down a staircase in lack of any other sanitation.

“Why should that be different anywhere else?” Bobby asked, his mind also slightly foggy with alcohol. “But thanks for reminding me.”

“Huh? Where ‘ya going?”

“Relieving myself!”

“Wait for me!”

Grinning widely, Bobby didn’t even so much as slow down for his brother. Instead, he placed his half-full beer glass onto a windowsill at the beginning of the alleyway, tipping his imaginary hat to another fan as they passed each other halfway to the makeshift toilet.

Not that Wayne needed long to catch up, unzipping his fly even before he had stopped walking.

“This is what I meant.” Wayne stated pompously as they stood next to each other.

“What?”

“We’re in the middle of Quedlinborough, and no one cares we’re basically pissing in the middle of the street.”

Bobby only cast his brother a questioning arch of his eyebrow.

“No, really. Have you seen any police since the game?”

“No.” His mind feeling much clearer now, Bobby didn’t really like the direction their conversation was going. “I’d also really like to keep it that way. So don’t say it too loudly.”

“There were tables on the streets, we paid beer we never got and got beer we never paid. It’s hard to believe we’re still on Espen. I mean, there were people walking on the streets! Can you imagine other planets where it’s always like that?”

“I can imagine us getting into a lot of trouble if you don’t hurry.” Casting an incredulous glance at his brother, he added: “Damn, don’t you ever finish?”

“I can go for hours, baby!” Wayne replied, biting his tongue at Bobby.

But he seemed to be coming to an end, finally, as suddenly a shrill noise cut through the alleyway.

“Freeze!” someone yelled. “What do you vandals think you are doing there?”

It only took Bobby a swift glance over his shoulder to see that they had been spotted by what had to be the only two police officers on duty today. Two men in gray uniforms were blocking the alley’s exit, their genuinely outraged expressions clearly showing that they didn’t share today’s general laissez-faire mood. This was Espen, after all.

Wayne, on the other hand, seemed utterly non-plussed. Taking the time to shake his dick dry, he smiled at the officers before he zipped up again.

“My apologies, good Sirs, if I have caused any offense.” he replied, even managing not to sound mocking. “What is the problem?”

“As if you didn’t know that, scoundrel!”

Cautiously, the two officers approached them, their frapsticks ready.

Just as hesitant, Bobby gave his brother another sidelong glance. If Wayne did something hot-headed now, they would be in deep trouble. But Wayne looked so relaxed it actually managed to calm Bobby down a little as well. Maybe they would get out of this with just a stiff talking to, and maybe a small fine.

Coming closer, they noticed that both policemen were rather odd for the job, definitely not looking like the professionally trained guards that usually did the job. The older one of the two looked like he had been called out of retirement, while the younger one seemed like the bullying type that decent police forces usually avoided at all costs. Probably they were temps to stock up the numbers in the city for the big game.

Unfortunately, the officers also noticed that they were facing two fit lads, at least one of them looking as if he was hauling beer barrels for fun.

“Hands to the wall,” the older one of them suddenly snapped, restlessly handling his frapstick. “I said hands to the wall, vandals.”

What an unpleasant turn of events. Running was no real option, the two cops blocked the alley’s exit too well. So Bobby obeyed silently, hoping that his brother would follow his example without any complaints.  
And much to his surprise, Wayne did as he had been told. Leaning his hands against the wall, he didn’t even complain as one of the officers made him spread his legs further apart by unsubtly kicking against his feet.

“At least they’re smart enough not to try something silly.” the younger guard commented.

“They already DID something stupid, remember?” his colleague interjected quite angrily. “I hate those guys who come here and soil our beautiful city. I wish we could have them whipped.”

The younger one started patting down Wayne, probably looking for some sort of ID rather than any hidden weapons. Despite his unpleasant expression, he seemed to be not as bent on punishing the brothers as his colleague.

“Calm down, they’re commoners.” he said while swiftly going through the contents of Wayne’s wallet. “We’ll write them a fine and that’s it.”

“Still wish we could have them whipped. Fucking disgusting, if you ask me.”

“Yeah, yeah. Calm down.”

Now it was Bobby’s turn to get frisked. For a change, he wasn’t carrying anything on him that would get him into trouble, so he didn’t really care. If a public patdown and a fine was all the would get for being caught literally with their pants down, he would count himself lucky. Considering that they had spent almost their last credit to come here for the game, a fine would be bad enough already.

Only then did Bobby notice that the hand of the guard had been lingering on his ass for quite a while now. Unable to suppress a curious glance over his shoulder, he could see a hungry, conflicted expression in the eyes of the man.

“I am not sure about this one.” the younger guard remarked, his voice suddenly husky. “He seems to be hiding something.”

Once again, Bobby was searched from shoulders to ankles, only much more thoroughly this time.

It wasn’t the first time that he was being groped all over by some sort of security. Looking like he did, wearing tight jeans and an equally tight White Coats team jersey cut off at the bottom to show off his lean stomach occasionally, Bobby knew that this sort of attention was unavoidably. It was something like an occupational hazard for a teen slut as he was, though that didn’t make him like it even one bit better.

Next to Bobby, Wayne risked a look to see what was taking the guardsman so long. It took him a moment to make sense of what was going on, but then his face crunched up in a weirdly mixed expression between anger and ‘not again’. Shooting him a warning look, Bobby hoped that his brother would manage to keep his mouth shut long enough to get through this unscathed.

“You mentioned something about a fine, officer.” Bobby said, hoping the guardsman would catch on to what he was suggesting. “But we’re poor workers from Bellingham, and we need the money for our way home.” That wasn’t quite the truth, but if he could swap the fine for a blowjob, they’d have much less to worry about.

“You should have thought about that before you started vandalizing private property,” the older guard snarled through his teeth. But the younger one stopped fondling Bobby for a moment, hesitating.

“Maybe there’s another way we can... sort this out?” Bobby suggested.

The way the guardsman’s hand slowly slid down Bobby’s back and came to rest on his ass was all the answer he needed. It was almost a caressing gesture, tender despite the situation.

“They’re kids,” the guardsman said to his colleague without removing his hand. “Ease up. You can’t have them whipped, and I could use some fun. It’d be a good deal for all of us.”

For a moment, Bobby expected the elder guard to reply something caustic, but unfortunately, it was Wayne who spoke first.

“Keep your filthy paws off my brother!” he hissed, his voice so deep it came out almost a growl.

“Wayne!” Bobby urged under his breath. “Keep calm. I’ve got this.”

“What’s this?” the guardsman behind Bobby asked, taunting. He pulled himself closer to Bobby until his crotch was pressing against the teenager’s buttcheeks. “You want your little slut all for yourself, huh? Look how he wants me! Doesn’t seem to get it often enough from you, does he?”

“Leave him alone!” Wayne growled again, leaving his position at the wall, completely unimpressed by the armed guards.

“Hands to the wall!” the older guard suddenly yelled, trying to hit Wayne with his frapstick to drive the point home.

But Wayne hadn’t been brawling all his life without learning a few tricks of his own. He knew from painful experience that even a glancing touch with a frapstick would deal an extremely painful, stunning discharge. Nothing lethal, but more than enough to knock a man out for a short while.

So instead of trying to dodge or block the officer’s frapstick, he turned around and charged. Grabbing the guardsman’s wrist, he used his attackers momentum to twist his arm around until the older man yelped in pain.

“What the fuck!” The guard who had been fondling Bobby instantly forgot his romantic desires and instead drew his own frapstick from its protective sheath at his belt.

“Wayne, no!” The instant the words were out, Bobby knew it was too late already. They had attacked official guards of House van der Meer, and that was nothing they would be able to get ignored by handing out free blowjobs.

Acting purely on instinct, Bobby used his position at the wall and kicked back with all the force he could muster. The guardsman behind him had already turned around to help his colleague, but was still standing right behind Bobby. His kick hit the side of the guardsman’s knee with enough force to topple the man over.

With a loud yell of pain the man hit the pavement, his frapstick clattering across the dirty cobblestones.

Instantly, Bobby rushed over to his brother who was still wrestling the older officer. The man was no match at all for Wayne in terms of strength, but he was determined at all cost not to let go of his frapstick. A smart decision, Bobby had to admit, but not enough.

Bobby wasn’t a big fighter, and had always preferred to solve his problems without violence. But what he lacked in strength or combat skills, he more than made up for with a complete lack of honor.

Taking two steps around the guard his brother was basically holding in a stalemate, Bobby took a second to aim and then kicked the poor man in the balls with so much force that he didn’t even scream. The guardsman’s eyes bulged grotesquely, all the color suddenly drained from his face, and then he toppled over like a felled tree.

“Damn, that was nasty!” Wayne exclaimed, visibly impressed. “Come on, bro, gotta run.”

Bobby couldn’t agree more. Instantly, they turned towards the exit of the alley, but the younger guardsman had found his footing again. Even though his frapstick was well out of reach, he was charging at them, his face livid with rage and a healthy dose of embarrassment.

But Wayne didn’t even hesitate. Instead, he charged as well, low and compact, slamming into the officer’s side with the force of a battle ram. The guardsman was hurled to the left, completely taken by surprise by the maneuver. He slammed into a wrought iron railing that protected another basement staircase, his arms flailing. But his momentum was too high, his footing to insecure, and he was carried over the railing.

Almost as if in slow motion, Bobby watched the man pivot over the sharp tips of the railing, his gray uniform catching and holding him upright down, his head dangling several feet above the bottom end of the stairs. He yelled in pain and confusion as his own weight drove the spikes into the flesh of his thighs, and he struggled frantically to get loose again.

The ugly, ripping sound of tearing flesh when he finally got off was nothing compared to the blood-curdling, wet crunch of breaking bones when he fell straight down several feet, head-first onto the stairs below. His panicked screams abruptly stopped, and the following silence was worse than anything Bobby had ever heard.

Either Wayne hadn’t realized what had just happened or he didn’t care. Either way, he grabbed Bobby by his arm, almost violently shoving him towards the exit of the alley.

“Run!”

And Bobby ran. For the first time ever, he didn’t think of anything, he was just running for his bare life.

They had just reached the mouth of the alley when a shrill whistle from the right announced that the noise of their fight hadn’t gone unnoticed. More guardsmen were coming their way, and those were armed with proper weapons.

“Murder!” someone yelled in the alley behind them, and it took Bobby a long moment to realize it was the older guardsman, standing over the bloodied railing his colleague had fallen over. “Murder most foul!”

Again, it was Wayne who grabbed Bobby by his arm and hauled him onwards, away from the approaching reinforcements. Ahead of them, the sea of partying soccer fans parted like water. Probably more to evade the charging guards than to aid the fleeing brothers, but it did help none the less.  
Bobby and Wayne just ran as fast as their feet would carry them, a wall of white-clad fans to either side. They didn’t care about the direction, only to get as much distance between them and the shrill whistles of the guards pursuing them.

The masses of fans around them thinned out with every meter, and for a moment, it seemed as if they would be able to make it.

But then, the unnerving mosquito screams of stunner shots started to cut through the air around them. Neither Bobby or Wayne cared enough to even slow down a step, but Bobby knew that if the guards were already in shooting distance, it needed a small miracle for them to get out of this.

They managed almost another half mile before Bobby was hit. It didn’t hurt as much as he had expected, just a jolt of pain like touching a wire fence. But even though it was just a glancing shot, the right side of his body instantly stopped listening to him. Like a sack of potatoes, he dropped to the ground, his face slamming against the pavement, his left arm and leg working pointlessly without the opposing partners.

Wayne stopped the very instant he noticed his brother going down.

“Run!” Bobby croaked as loud as he could, but Wayne didn’t listen. Of course.

Instead, his stupid, stubborn, loyal brother turned around and hauled Bobby back to his feet. Biting down the pain both from his good arm being used to support his whole weight and the rest of his body breaking out in pins and needles as the glancing stunner shot was wearing off already, Bobby tried his best to keep on going. Wayne carried him more than he supported him, but in the end, it was pointless.

Only a few steps further down, a second stunner shot hit them from behind. This time, they were both hit in the back, both brothers falling onto the asphalt, face down, with hardly enough strength in them to keep on breathing.

Through tearing eyes, Bobby could see his brother’s face on the ground next to him, just as slack and confused as his own right now, probably. Within seconds, they were surrounded by gray boots as far as he could see. He could hear distorted voices around them, unintelligible to his shell-shocked mind.

Then they were shot again, point blank, and Bobby finally passed out.

\---

“Mom, you have to listen to me!” Bobby had to make her understand what had happened, and if it was the last thing he would ever do for this terribly woman. “It was an accident.”

For a long moment, his mother stared at him, her small, watery eyes blinking.

“So you are telling me your good-for-nothing brother killed a cop?”

“No! It was an accident!” By now, Bobby had stopped caring about his composure. Tears were running down his face, tears of bone-deep exhaustion both physically and emotionally. “It was an accident, Mom.”

“I knew I should have thrown that bastard out with the garbage the day he was born! You know what the hospital charged me just to tell me he was alive that day I squeezed him out? They are all just after my pension.” Mumbling something unintelligible, their mother tried to straighten her hair with erratic motions. Then she looked up again, her eyes suddenly clear and full of spite. “But just so you know, I won’t be paying a single credit to get him out of trouble.”

“No, Mom, no one’s coming for your money.”

Obviously, his mother had expected otherwise. Her ruddy face twitching, she looked at him as if trying to figure out what he was trying to hide from her.

But there was nothing to hide.

It had been a swift trial, just some local van der Meer Knight handling the small trials of the evening. The noble hadn’t even waited for the list of their charges to be read completely. He had found Bobby guilty of public indecency and resisting arrest, and Wayne guilty of murder second degree on top of that. Ten strokes with a cane for each of them, and Wayne would be sold into slavery afterwards, the proceeds and his property going to the family of the dead guard.

The whole affair had been over in less than three minutes, not including the beatings. Those had taken another two.

“So where is your misbegotten brother now?” Bobby’s mother asked, ducking as if she was expecting some kind of unpleasant catch.

“He’s not coming back, Mom.” This time, Bobby couldn’t suppress a sob. “They sold him. As a slave.”

Disgusted, his mother blecked her teeth.

“Poor sod who bought that useless bastard. He was a no good son, and he’ll be a no good slave.”

“Mom!” Bobby’s voice was catching. Didn’t that woman care at all? “Mom, he’s not coming back.

Once again, his mother blinked at him as if she hadn’t understood a single word he was saying.

“He’s gone, Mom.” Completely exhausted, Bobby sat down on the corner of his mother’s bed, taking her hands. “Wayne is gone.”


	6. A Voice in the Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lot of things have changed since Bobby forced the local Youh’Kai to invite them to their celebrations one year ago. This year, he and Mandy are invited just like that, but it’s Nach’Tarr’s Night, and everyone’s got fears he has to face...

With a shrieking hiss of genuine terror, the Youh’Kai woman recoiled from Bobby.

“I come for your blood,” he proclaimed regally. “Surrender!”

Instead of an answer, the woman just gave a babbling noise, unable to take her look of Bobby.

Taken aback by her reaction, he cast a sidelong glance to K’rina and Mandy who were standing next to him in the hallway, out of sight of the poor Youh’Kai woman. But K’rina nodded firmly, her face sincere, clearly showing that this was more than a little prank they were playing. Shrugging inwardly, Bobby returned his attention to the covering woman.

“I come for your blood,” he repeated, this time using the Youh’Kai language as good as he could. “Surrender!”

Again, the woman didn’t do anything but cover in fear next to her table, her dark alien eyes fixed in sheer terror on the human adolescent at her door. Another Youh’Kai appeared behind her, rushing in half-dressed, apparently alerted by her panicked noise. He stopped dead in his tracks as he saw Bobby, his look shocked. But only a second later, his face filled with understanding, and he gave Bobby a tiny nod that looked oddly respectful.

“Darling,” the Youh’Kai said to the fear-shaken woman, calm and yet beseeching. “He’s coming for you. You have to talk to him.”

The woman finally tore her eyes off Bobby, whispering something hardly intelligible to what Bobby assumed to be her husband.

“I come for your blood,” Bobby repeated the traditional challenge for the third time. “Surrender!”

“He won’t listen to me.” The male Youh’Kai helped her onto her feet, steadying her. “He is your’s to appease.”

Now the woman looked back to Bobby, her eyes still filled with terror.

What could possibly have happened to her that a human filled her with such fear, Bobby wondered silently. And why the hell K’rina wanted me to inflict myself on her?

“My blood is mine,” the woman suddenly whispered, just barely loud enough to be intelligible. “To be spilled only at my choosing.”

She seemed to gain confidence with every word, her face still contorted by fear but also with resolve. Separating from her husband, even though her hand was still firmly clasping his, she took a step towards Bobby.

“But I see your claim.” she said, now in a voice that sounded almost normal. “Will food and drink be enough to appease you for another year?”

Now it would be Bobby’s turn to answer, only that K’rina had not told him what to say when she had roped him into this. Apparently, playing the monster on Nach’Tarr’s night had been part of the deal of being invited to the festivities inside the ghetto for a human. Not that anyone seemed to expect Mandy to be anything but a curious human girl. But then again, Bobby had introduced himself quite flamboyantly last year, and this probably was the price he had to pay.

“You are a courageous woman,” Bobby said, improvising wildly. “A drink will suffice.”

It seemed the right thing not to burden her with more than that, even though a full meal would have been customary. But K’rina had promised them a big party and buffet in the central hall, and he sure as hell wouldn’t miss that. His memories of last year’s Nach’Tarr’s Night in the ghetto were a little hazy, but if he remembered one thing, it was great food, great drinks, and a tremendously talented band of Youh’Kai making music unlike anything he had ever heard.

“A drink,” the woman replied flatly, apparently also a little bit at a loss. But her husband beamed silently, and nodded.

“I think a gorr would be right, don’t you think?” he suggested.

His wife nodded and disappeared into an adjoining room, fetching the suggested drink.

“I don’t know who sent you here, and how they managed,” the husband suddenly said, directly to Bobby and softly enough his wife wouldn’t overhear, “But you have no idea how much this means to us. Thank you so much.”

Bobby allowed himself a tiny smile and a nod, not really sure what great thing he was doing apart from scaring the shit out of some poor Youh’Kai woman. But it seemed to be considered a good thing, so he just went along.

The woman returned an instant later, carrying a small shot glass with a suspiciously oily fluid. She walked into the middle of the room and stopped there, apparently waiting for something to happen.

“Now go inside,” K’rina suddenly urged him from the sidelines. “Go, take that drink, be nice, get out.”

A bit confused, Bobby nodded, but then hesitated right before he stepped across the threshold.

“What the hell is ‘gorr’?” he asked. “Is it safe? It doesn’t sound safe.”

K’rina rolled her eyes. “It’s not poisonous to humans, if that’s what you’re asking. Now go!”

Braving a smile now himself, Bobby stepped inside. The woman’s smile was still shaky, but there was also an odd gleam of excitement and accomplishment in her eyes.

“Welcome to my home,” she said, the quiver in her voice hardly audible. Offering the drink, she added: “Here, take freely, and be my guest for the night.”

The unspoken ‘and begone tomorrow’ was almost louder, and Bobby had to suppress a smile. There was something oddly empowering in being a monster, if only for a single night.

Politely, he walked over to the woman and took the offered drink. It smelled strongly alcoholic and disconcertingly moldy, but he braved himself and downed the drink in a single drought. It was some kind of brandy, that for sure, but definitely not made from anything humans would consider suitable for the task. It was hot and bitter and astringent at the same time, with a ridiculously intense aftertaste of rotting leaves. It took a lot more willpower to keep the stuff inside than Bobby had anticipated, but he managed with only a low groan escaping him.

“Thank you,” he whispered coarsely, his throat still numb with heat after the drink. “This will be enough for a year. I think I will not bother you any longer.”

“Until next year,” the Youh’Kai woman said, taking the empty glass back with a smile as wide as if he had told he she had won the lottery. “May Nach’Tarr bless you.”

Bobby felt a violent cough creeping up his throat and decided to cut the niceties short.

“Until next year,” he replied as politely as he could, before storming out into the hallway. Right into Mandy’s arms who waited for him with laughing tears in her eyes.

As soon as he was out, K’rina slipped inside behind him and congratulated the woman. Bobby didn’t really understand what was being said, as he was wrecked by a wheezing cough that brought tears to his eyes. Mandy sympathetically patted his back, and when the cough subsided, K’rina was with them again, the door behind her closed already.

“Now color my impressed,” she remarked with a smirk. “You’re the first human who doesn’t only manage to down a glass of gorr, but also to keep it inside.”

“He doesn’t have a gag reflex,” Mandy volunteered some information, her hand still resting on Bobby’s shoulder for comfort.

“Oh. Is he some kind of mutant?”

“No, just a slut.”

Now it was K’rina’s turn to blink in confusion at Mandy’s deadpan delivery. Bobby, on the other hand, had to laugh out loud, which triggered another coughing fit, though much less severe than the first one.

“Damn,” he finally croaked coarsely. “What was that shit?”

“Gorr?” Obviously relieved at the change of subject, K’rina rubbed the bone ridge behind her ear. “It’s a schnaps, made from special mushrooms and spices imported from Far’Gesh. We make it down here, it’s a very rare and precious delicacy.”

“Delicate, huh? You are so fucking weird down here.”

K’rina’s wide smile once more revealed two rows of very white and very pointy teeth. Apparently more flattered than insulted by Bobby’s remark, she gestured them to move on, deeper down into the maze of corridors that made up the Youh’Kai ghetto here in Bellingham.

Much like last year, the air was heavy with smoke and spices, music thumping up from somewhere down below. The Youh’Kai were busy all around, some in costumes, some carrying trays and pots of food, everyone in holiday mood.

K’rina and her human companions were given a few sidelong glances, but mostly, everyone treated them pretty much like normals. Compared to, say, the party in the Mostarda mansion where they had been tolerated outcasts at best, this was quite impressive. Also, even though they were surrounded by primitive aliens renowned for their temper and violent outbreaks, they felt almost safer than among humans. At least they felt significantly more welcome.

“What was this scene about, actually?” Bobby asked once his throat had calmed enough to warrant a longer conversation. “I was afraid she’ attack me.”

“I don’t think she would have,” K’rina replied with another toothy grin. “But even if, that’d been a good thing.”

“Really.”

“I’d have protected you.” Giving Bobby a serious look, she added: “N’tiri has had some... really bad experiences with humans your age. Nothing too unusual, but in her case, the fear stuck with her to the point she wasn’t able to leave the ghetto any longer.”

“And then you send me over to knock on her door, of all people?”

For a moment, K’rina seemed insecure what to say, but it was Mandy who offered an explanation.

“To face her fears, I think. To remind her that even though there’s monsters out there, she’s not helpless. Right, K’rina?”

The alien nodded. “That’s what Nach’Tarr’s Night is all about. Remind us of the power we wield if only we can come up with the courage to face our fears.”

“That’s pretty smart.” Bobby was genuinly impressed. Human holidays seemed petty and vain in comparison. “But wouldn’t it have helped more if someone had just talked to, what’s her name, N’tiri? There’s doctors for that, you know?”

For a long moment, K’rina looked at them, obviously searching for an answer to a question that seemed fundamentally alien to her. Finally, she made a gesture Bobby couldn’t place and replied: “Lûn is dead. We all make do, best we can.”

Turning around, she obviously considered the subject closed and continued to walk further into the ghetto, roughly to where they heard the music come from.

“Do you have any idea what she meant with that?” Bobby asked Mandy in hushed tones. “Who is dead?”

“No idea,” his girlfriend replied in much the same tone. “Maybe that ‘Loon’ was their local psychiatrist?”

Bobby only gave her a shrug in reply.

Whatever K’rina’s last remark had been about, it was forgotten as soon as they reached the large hall they both remembered from last year. Almost a hundred feet long and thirty feet wide, it must have been designed either as a warehouse or the main mess hall of the bunker.

Right now, it was a more a dimly lit cave than anything else, it’s origin only betrayed by the angular corners. There was a large bonfire burning in the middle of the hall, with the smoke pooling on the ceiling and venting passably trough some unseen passages. On the far end, a handful Youh’Kai were making music, an odd mix of large drums and metal pieced banged with a jackhammer, an electric guitar and two singers that seemed to sing both together and against each other at the same time. Throughout the hall, long tables had been set up, so mismatched they looked like salvaged from the junkyard, which they probably were. Countless Youh’Kai were bustling everywhere, placing food on the tables, carrying drinks, laughing, sparring, making out in the dark corners.

It was loud enough one had to shout, it was hot and sooty and moist. It felt like the heart of a giant anthill filled with humanoid, vaguely reptilian and potentially man-eating ants. It was intoxicating.

Giving Bobby’s arm a tight squeeze, Mandy squealed with delight. It looked like the beginning of a tremendous night.

Laughing gently at her guests’ excitement, K’rina motioned them onwards, steering them through the milling crowd. Occasionally, there were some remarks shouted in their general direction, some in Imperial, some in the guttural language of the Youh’Kai. But it was friendly banter, some challenges, and even a few compliments on their ‘freakishly perfect’ costumes. They arrived at a cluster of tables near the fire, where they were introduced as K’rina’s friends. No more explanation seemed necessary, and almost as soon as they were seated, both Bobby and Mandy found themselves with drinks in their hands, some food in front of them, and the whole table arguing loudly which food would be safe for humans to eat as they were so very sensitive.

“Well, Bobby managed to down some gorr, earlier on, so I don’t think we have to worry.” K’rina informed her clique, only to be met with disbelieving stares. “A full glass, and he kept it all in.”

Instantly, the whole table erupted in loud cheers and challenges, with one of the male aliens leaving abruptly to fetch his family’s bottle of the vile brew to see if there was any truth to K’rina’s story.

“What are you doing to me?” Bobby asked K’rina, leaning over to her so closely his cheek touched the bone-ridge on her face. “Wasn’t one glass enough?”

“Last year, you were one of Nach’Tarr’s horde. Now you’re a guest, and have to play our games.” Giving Bobby another toothy grin, she added: “Don’t worry, little softskin. You’ll do fine.”

Not really reassured, Bobby nodded and leaned back.

So much had changed in the last year.

Loosing Wayne to some silly accident was the big hole in his life, but it seemed to Bobby everyone else was disappearing, too. Soon after they had lost Wayne, Dimple had smoked some cheap dakka that had left him in a drooling stupor for three days. He never fully recovered, and now barely spoke and only walked up and down the pier all day, his eyes all blank. Kiki had gotten pregnant, presumably by Ed, and both were now working at the factory until the baby came. Their little gang had suddenly, silently, stopped existing, and now it was only him and Mandy left.

It was a scary feeling, and the idea of maybe loosing Mandy, too, made him want to scream. In a few months, he’d finish school and he had no idea what to do, or where to get work other than in the stockfish factory. All his future was a dark, broiling void of uncertainty, and he hated it and yet didn’t see any way out of it.

“Bobby!” Mandy’s insistent yell kicked him out of his brooding. “For fuck’s sake, I need a hand here!”

Looking over, he found his girlfriend sweating and smiling, her chin and hands covered in some greasy sauce, flushed and laughing and having the time of her life.

“Help me get my shirt off,” she said, grinning, gesturing at her greasy hands. “It’s too hot in here.”

Of course she was right. This close to the bonfire, it was sweltering, and most of the Youh’Kai were going shirtless, anyway. So he helped her out of her shirt and pinned up her hair so she could continue devouring something that looked suspiciously like palm-sized beetles in some oily sauce without messing up her outfit. The humidity made her eyeliner run, anyway, and she looked weird and messy and happy and actually quite wonderful.

The guy with the bottle of gorr returned, brandishing it like some kind of priceless artifact and actually gaining a murmur of renown from his friends. He settled at the table right across Bobby, producing a small shotglass.

“Now let’s see if K’rina’s been bragging, softskin!” he said, full of bravado but also with camaraderie. Cautiously, he filled the glass with a mere teaspoon full of the vile brew, pushing it across the table. “You think you can manage that?”

Casting a sidelong glance at K’rina, Bobby found her grinning her toothy grin and nodding.

“That’s how we drink that stuff,” she explained with a snicker. “N’tiri has been very generous.”

The challenging Youh’Kai had no clue what they were talking about, but slowly Bobby was beginning to understand where this was leading.

“I don’t know, I’m just a human,” Bobby said with a tone somewhere between shy and insulting. “You think you can match what I drink?”

Loud laughter erupted around the table, everyone delighted at the human who had the guts to challenge a Youh’Kai.

“Of course I can!” was the bellowed answer. “I am Youh’Kai!”

Loud cheers followed his claim, his friends clearly egging him on.

“Of course you are.” Trying to imitate K’rina’s carnivore grin with his own human teeth, Bobby attempted to raise the bet even higher. “Though maybe that’s too easy for you. You think you can match double of what I drink?”

This time, the cheers around the table were definitely less enthusiastic.

“Sure I can. No softskin will beat me.”

“Maybe my skin is softer than yours,” Bobby replied as evenly as the noise allowed. “But you never swallowed like I do.”

This remark made Mandy and K’rina break into grunting laughs, giving each other high fives behind Bobby’s back, while the challenger and his friends looked politely confused.

Leaning across the table, Bobby angled for the bottle of gorr, uncorked it and filled the glass to the rim, much to the astonished and slightly worried remarks of the other Youh’Kai around the table. His challenger looked positively daunted.

A little intoxicated by the overall mood, Bobby was going to milk this moment for all it was worth. He calculated that now that he knew what was coming, he ought to be able to drink another glass without so much as watering eyes, maybe even two. He sincerely doubted his challenger could match this.

So Bobby rose from the bench he had been sitting on, and took off the t-shirt he had been wearing. It was hot enough anyway in here, and he figured his pale, smooth skin would look especially alien among all these mostly dark-skinned, calloused Youh’Kai.

He was just about to say something snotty as suddenly, a blood-curdling scream pierced the noise. For a moment, all conversation died down around them, all of the Youh’Kai looking a little queasy. But then someone broke into cheers, and within an instant, the whole hall was applauding and toasting.

“What the hell was that?” Bobby asked, bending down to K’rina next to him.

“Just one of us, getting his Ba’ata.” Seeing Bobby’s complete lack of understanding, she tapped the bone ridge under her eye and added: “The ritual markings on our bones. Painful like nothing else, but a great honor.”

Shooting her an insecure grin, Bobby returned to his shotglass full of gorr. However kind and welcoming these aliens seemed, he mustn’t ever forget that they were aliens. Fucking crazy beetle eaters, all of them, as Wayne would have said.

With resolve, Bobby returned to his attention to his challenger across the table. Miraculously, two more shotglasses had appeared in the meantime, both filled with gorr and standing in front of the Youh’Kai.

“Are you ready to stand by your word?” Bobby asked loudly.

Instead of an answer, the Youh’Kai rose, slapping his chest in confirmation. He had short, dark hair, his skin was a deep olive green-brown. Not unusual for a Youh’Kai, but still very alien. He wore threatbare army fatigue shorts where Bobby had his usual skinny black jeans, and they could have hardly found a pair looking more different if they had tried. Staring each other down across the table and their drink, Bobby could tell by the sleazy smile on Mandy’s face that they presented a neat picture that could only be improved by getting it on, at least in her dirty mind.

Wordlessly, Bobby raised his glass and downed it in one. The first wave of disgust was stronger than expected, but Bobby managed to hide it expertly by thudding the glass onto the table and then throwing it over his shoulder against the wall.

The aliens at his table exploded in howling cheers.

His challenger didn’t let him wait, and downed his first glass in much the same manner. Only when he hurled the glass over his shoulder, it ended up in the bonfire, making the flames spark blue and green. The Youh’Kai shuddered and hissed, gritting his teeth, but didn’t seem like he was going to be sick on the spot. Cheered on by his friends, he picked up the second glass. His skin had taken on an odd mushed-peas complexion and he sweated even stronger than before. Eying Bobby over the rim of his glass, he forced the drink down in several small gulps, turning paler with each of them. But he finished his glass under the cheers and yells of the surrounding Youh’Kai, grinning and snarling at the same time.

Bobby waited until the cheers had died down a little, then picked up the bottle and an empty beerglass from on the table. “Ready for the next round?”

The Youh’Kai’s black eyes widened in surprise and genuine disbelief.

But before he could reply anything, a loud commotion erupted behind Bobby. Several Youh’Kai entered the hall from a side entrance that had been covered with heavy drapes, carrying another one between them. At first, Bobby thought the Youh’Kai was unconscious, and seeing that he had blood flowing freely from what looked like a nasty, frazzled wound to one of the bone ridges on his head, that seemed only fitting. But the Youh’Kai was gesturing faintly, and instead to some sort of doctor, was hoisted onto one of the chairs and then onto a table, cheered by everyone around.

The Youh’Kai around their table joined the celebration instantly, applauding and cheering like all others. K’rina just gestured them to applaud, apparently saving her explanations for later.

“He got his first Ba’ata tonight,” she yelled as soon as the din had calmed at least a little. “You heard him scream!”

Disconcerted, Bobby looked at the bloodied Youh’Kai who couldn’t be older than himself. His head and face were still covered with blood, his hands were shaking, and he looked like keeling over any moment. And this was what these aliens did to themselves voluntarily, Bobby wondered with silent dread. Let’s hope I never find out what they do to their enemies.

“We have a real priestess of Khastai here tonight!” K’rina continued her yelled explanations, oblivious to Bobby’s slightly appalled expression. “It probably hurt many times more than normal, but he gained great honor!”

Bobby was still wondering if he dared to ask who or what Khastai was when he felt Mandy’s long fingernail insistently poking his side.

He looked around to her and had to grin – wearing nothing more than her slacks and her bra, her wild hair piled up onto her head, her make-up running with the heat and the sweat and the beetle-barbecue sauce, she looked feral. Right as if she had never partied anywhere else.

But Mandy’s face was serious, and she pointed Bobby towards the bonfire. It took him a little moment, but then he saw his drinking-duel partner standing next to the fire, looking seriously wobbly on his knees. Everyone else was still cheering the newly scarred hero, but of course, Mandy had kept her eyes open.

“Go help him,” she urged, almost pushing Bobby in the direction.

The way she had emphasized the ‘help’ didn’t leave any room for discussion, and Bobby didn’t waste a moment to ask why. So he walked over to the bonfire, pushing through the milling Youh’Kai, until he was standing right next to his challenger. He was staggering, his eyes half closed, and still sweating profusely.

“You need help?” Bobby yelled, trying to make himself heard.

The Youh’Kai grabbed his hand, steadying himself, and tried to answer something. But Bobby had been on enough parties to know what kind of convulsions this was – he barely managed to step beside his newfound friend before he puked violently, a neat arch of food and drink all over the bonfire’s rim. Holding the Youh’Kai steady, he heard a shout from their table and looked back.

Someone had finally noticed their friend missing, and was now pointing at them. The Youh’Kai at their table looked worried and embarrassed, but Mandy seemed rather angry. She gestured sharply at Bobby, and once again, it took him a moment to understand what she wanted of him.

Apparently, she didn’t want him to win the challenge.

So Bobby turned his attention back down to the Youh’Kai he was still holding by his arm and waist, and concentrated to remember the taste of gorr. It worked almost as good as putting a finger into his throat, and soon enough he was standing there, heaving the foul drink onto the floor, adding to the same puddle his challenger.

Instantly, their table broke into roaring laughter, probably with a lot of pointing and jeering. But a sidelong glance at the Youh’Kai at his side confirmed that Mandy had been right. His new friend looked at him with a an acknowledging nod, grateful that Bobby had saved him from greater embarrassment.

Wiping his face and spitting into the fire one last time, he seemed much more sober now. “Seems neither of us was Youh’Kai enough,” he said with a chuckle and a pat to Bobby’s shoulder. “I am T’sule, by the way.”

“My pleasure. And I am Bobby.”

“Come on, let’s get back and laughed at together.”

Slinging his arm around Bobby’s neck, T’sule steered them back to their table, where they were greeted with sneers and laughter, but thankfully also two big glasses of cold water to get the taste of partially digested gorr out of their mouths.

Bobby was just wiping his face with his poor t-shirt as a sudden silence fell over their corner of the hall. Everywhere around, conversations ground to halt, and even the band stopped playing. An elderly Youh’Kai had emerged from the entrance they had brought the newly scarred youngster earlier. Slowly, she shuffled along the wall, looking around, while everyone around her seemed to avoid her gaze. Only a handful Youh’Kai rose and looked at her directly, some of them egged on by their comrades.

“What’s happening?” Bobby whispered to T’sule, as K’rina was too far off for a polite question. “Who’s that?”

“This is G’dina, the Khastai priestess,” T’sule replied, his eyes firmly on his hands. “Looking if there is anyone else here deserving her blessing.”

“And why is everyone looking down?”

T’sule glanced up, shocked. “Look down!” he hissed, physically taking Bobby’s head and turning it away from the old priestess. “Only look at her if you want her to notice you!”

“And if she does?” Bobby asked before he could think better of it.

“She might bestow her blessing on you.”

“You mean, she’ll scar me?”

“If you’re lucky, yes. If not, well, Khastai is the Goddess of pain and truth – can you imagine anything hurting more than the naked truth?”

That, indeed, was a scary thought.

What would she tell him? That it was his fault Wayne was gone now? That he was a fool for hoping his life would encompass anything beyond a soul-destroying job at the factory? That he had failed to rescue his mother? To give a proper home to his younger siblings? Bobby knew all that already.

The truth could hurt like nothing else, T’sone was right about that. But it also meant that you had certainty.

With an inward sigh, Bobby looked up, searching for the priestess. She was standing only a little off, currently staring down a handful of young ‘warriors’ in front of her. As if she had felt Bobby’s gaze, she turned around, cackling, looking right at him.

“Softskins!” she exclaimed merrily, “and I thought it’d be a dull evening.”

A murmur went through the Youh’Kai, and not all of it sounded friendly.

“What are you doing?!” K’rina asked across the table after a short look had confirmed her fears, but Mandy put a calming hand on her shoulder.

“Let him. He’s made up his mind.”

He had, indeed. But now, looking at the priestess taking her time to shuffle over to their table, he didn’t necessarily still think it was a good idea. Because apart from the fact that the priestess was by far the ugliest Youh’Kai he had ever seen, she looked pretty much insane to him.

Naked except for a simple skirt, G’dina was scarred all over, like a burn victim trying to hide her disfigurement with tattoos and brandings. Her forehead was shaved, her remaining white hair falling onto her back in ratty dreadlocks. Bobby was sure that if he managed to drag her into a human quarter tonight, she’d make a perfect monster to knock on some unsuspecting family’s door. There was something in her hobbling gait, in the maniac intensity of her stare, that made all warning bells in Bobby’s head go off.

“You, the white softskin with the hair like fire.” G’dina finally said, her crooked finger pointing dramatically at Bobby. “Come with me.”

He rose, suddenly uncomfortably aware of all eyes resting on him.

“Thank you, Mother G’dina,” he said, trying to sound polite even though he didn’t have the faintest idea on how to address a Youh’Kai priestess. “But I would not like to take the honor of your blessing from anyone else here.”

“Hehe.” Obviously, G’dina was amused by Bobby’s attempt to unruffle a few feathers. “Who said I give out blessings tonight? What a silly idea.” But she seemed to think about it, and added: “If any of these shitheads give you trouble, I’ll tell their friends a few secrets. Now come.”

Despite the feeling that he was now in definitely over his head, Bobby untangled himself from the table and followed her. The Youh’Kai they passed stared at them, either in open surprise or barely veiled hostility. But it was also clear they respected G’dina’s decision, even if they didn’t like it.

Bobby wondered if the stories were true, if Youh’Kai priests were really gifted sorcerers and in league with sinister demons. G’dina sure looked the part. But then again, she also looked like some bag lady who spent most of her time shouting obscenities at complete strangers on some parking lot.

Braving a smile, he followed her out of the hall and through the makeshift curtain of heavy blankets, wrinkling his nose at the wet dog smell noticeable even despite all the smoke in the air. Behind the curtains, there was merely a small room, bare except for two chairs and a low table cluttered with the contents of a worn rucksack lying under it. In the unforgiving light of a single incandescent bulb, Bobby could make out several knifes, a few small saws and drills, all crude and apparently hand-crafted. Also, they were still wet with blood, looking almost black in the bluish light.

Rather unexpectedly, G’dina grabbed his hand, stroking his arm with her gnarled, disfigured fingers.

“Softskins,” she said softly, almost to herself. “So much skin, so little bone...”

There was no lewdness in her touch, only professional interest, much like a butcher admiring an especially tasty looking animal.

“I have never seen hair like this on a human. It’s a rare color, is it?”

“I think so.” Bobby shrugged. “Red is rare.”

G’dina’s attention suddenly snapped to Bobby, her black eyes staring directly into his, searing and far too intense to feel sane.

“Don’t try to be polite around me, pretty one. We both know you’re the only one with that haircolour you have ever seen.”

“I...” Bobby started, trailing off as he realized she meant her words exactly as she had said.

“We also know that I am the ugliest woman you’ve ever seen,” she continued to drive her point home. “And you are the prettiest human I’ve seen so far. You’re also the prettiest human you have seen, even if you don’t believe it.”

Bobby managed not to reply anything, even though only by the fraction of a second. She was dead-on right, he realized, though so far, her truths were not exactly painful. He shrugged a vague consent, curious to see where all this was leading.

“You’re also much too smart for this dump of a town, and you don’t believe that, either.”

By now, Bobby couldn’t suppress a grin. There was something very refreshing in talking to someone he could rely on to speak the truth, as warped and weird as it may sound.

“Is there anything else you can tell me that I don’t know yet? Or maybe even something I do believe, after all?”

“You’re a cocky little shit.” Grinning widely across her yellow teeth, G’dina meant this as insult and compliment in equal parts. “You’re full of insecurity, but you’re also full of courage. I like you.”

The last bit was delivered with a small wink and a smack of her lips. Bobby wasn’t sure why, but he would have bet a hefty sum that he was in no danger at all. Maybe the alien was a bit off her rockers, but none the less she seemed genuine. Not nice, or fair, or even sane, but honest to the bone.

“Can you tell me something I don’t know, yet?” Bobby asked on a more serious note.

“I? No.” As if trying to find something else to occupy herself with, she suddenly started gathering the bloodied tools on the table, wiping them clean as much as that was possible with the red-stained rags she had. “Maybe you want a tattoo? I can do those. Not much less honor than a ba’ata, if done properly.”

“I came to hear the truth.”

Looking up from her work, she suddenly looked even older than before, and genuinely concerned.

“I am not good enough to give you a tattoo, anyway. Still learning that craft, and you definitely deserver better.” She sighed wearily. “See, cheated myself out of another good chance to train.” Forcing herself to smile, she continued. “I can only tell you the truth, but I sense you know most of it anyway. For those things that are hidden, we need some help.”

“Did I... did I drop the ball on my family?”

G’dina laughed at the expression, a throaty, hoarse sound. “You did as good as you could, and you did well.” She waved him over and took his hand again, her eyes taking a distant look as she added: “Your mother and siblings are on their own path, and you have done all you could to help them along. You have to let them go and take care of your own life, if you want to do right.”

Nothing new there, Bobby thought with a hardly audible sigh. But it was good to hear it, none the less. “Thank you.”

“Pah.” G’dina slapped his hand, not too gently. “Don’t thank me for some crap every freak in a traveling circus could have told you. You came here for the truth, and you haven’t even asked a single proper question.”

“So, what about my future?”

“That is not a question.”

“Then... what should I do once I finish school?”

For a long moment, G’dina didn’t say anything, her mouth working soundlessly. Only now Bobby realized that she had holes in the sides of her nose, dark pits in the pale blue skin of hers. Several of her fingers were missing their last digit, and by the symmetry of the disfigurement, it didn’t seem like an accident.

“That’s the most stupid question I’ve heard in a very long time.” she finally said, apparently forced to tell her opinion by whatever strange codex she lived by. “Try another.”

“Okay...” Thinking for a moment, Bobby finally felt like he was getting a grip on how this game was played. “What question should I ask you, Mother G’dina?”

This time, she laughed, cackling and showing her teeth that were just as maimed and modified as the rest of her.

“Told you you were a smart one!” Nodding, she sat down on one of the chairs, gesturing Bobby do do the same. “It is Nach’Tarr’s Night, and he likes you. He might be willing to part with some of his secrets. You should ask me what your future holds, no holds barred, and see what he’s willing to share.”

“At what price?”

This time, G’dina smiled proudly and nodded. “Smart one, didn’t I say? There’s always a price, isn’t it?” Wagging her head, she considered for a moment before she replied. “Nach’Tarr can’t be bought, nor bribed. All he demands is trust, to accept the dark with neither fear nor wish to hide.” Hesitating for another moment, she added: “But even if he answers, his reply will only tell you the inevitable. It will happen if you want it to or not.”

“At least I’ll know.” Bobby replied with a shrug. After all, any ‘prophesies’ he would get would be the ramblings of a self-mutilating Youh’Kai crone. Nothing he’d be too worried about. “Let’s get it on.”

Seeming both excited and a little daunted, G’dina nodded and rose from her chair. “Just remain sitting where you are,” she explained, “and don’t show any fear. I’ll tell you what to do.”

Be a good boy, don’t move. Bobby had heard that particular order more often than he would have liked already.

G’dina shuffled through the room in her odd gait and switched off the only light. Instantly, darkness enveloped them, only a small sliver of orange light coming through the curtains from the hall. The music out there was playing loudly again, and Bobby could hear the boisterous laughter and chatter of countless Youh’Kai revelers.

“I’ll pray now, for a while,” G’dina’s voice said behind him. Her bony hands settled on his shoulders, softly as birds but unnerving as spiders. “If you have to do anything, I’ll tell you. Yes?”

“I’m fine.” Bobby replied. “Go ahead.”

Softly, the priestess started talking in the language of her people. Guttural sounds that could mean anything, although Bobby caught a word he knew every now and then. Her hands on his shoulders were growing heavier, her prayers more nonsensical.

Was there really a point to this mumbo-jumbo, Bobby wondered.

“Ask me, softskin child.”

The voice came from right behind Bobby where G’dina was standing, but it was not hers. It was a man’s voice, deep and soft and beautiful like nothing Bobby had ever heard before. Strong, calm and comforting, it was the kind of voice you’d hope to hear when you awoke from a nightmare, telling you that all is good now.

Bobby felt his throat constrict with unexpected emotions, completely out of his stride that a simple trick like an imitated voice could touch him so deeply.

“Ask me, child.”

“What does my future hold?” Bobby heard himself ask, still wondering how G’dina managed to change her voice like that. Then, on a spur of a moment, he added: “What do I have to do to get out of here?”

Bobby heard the person behind him exhale in a wide smile. “Do not worry, softskin child. Fate has you already in it’s thrall, coming closer every day.”

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Bobby registered that it was suddenly completely dark in the small room. There was no longer light coming in from the bonfire, nor could he hear anything from the outside. There was only him, and that voice.

“All hinges on your answer to the dragon’s question. If it is wrong, you stay, you wither and die.”

Despite the words, Bobby found himself moved and comforted beyond reason, the prick of tears in his eyes. Had she drugged him?

“If your answer is good, you will steal the heart of a fox, you will put your soul on display for millions, and you will save the life of the most evil creature in existence.”

While Bobby still tried to figure out the meaning of this weird piece of bullcrap, the person behind him said: “Never sell yourself below your price, softskin child.” Bending down until his face was right next to Bobby’s ear, bringing with him a scent of incense and gentle rain, he added without a chance of doubt: “All will be well.”

There was no chance in hell this was still G’dina talking.

“What the fuck?!” Now finally creeped out of his skin, Bobby jumped off his chair and paced through the room to where he remembered the light switch, bumping his shin against the table on the way. It took a little searching for him to get the light on again, but when he did, there was only G’dina standing there behind his toppled chair, blinking owlishly.

“Huh? What?” she asked. “Did anything happen?”

“You ask me?!” Bobby’s heart was still racing, even though he couldn’t say why. “You changed your voice, and told me some fucking crap about dragons and foxes and -”

“NO!” G’dina suddenly yelled, covering her ears. “No, no, no! Don’t tell me!”

Taken aback, Bobby stopped mid-sentence. Suddenly, he remembered how honest-to-the-bone she had been only moments ago. That cheap roadshow trick with the changed voice seemed so wrong, so unbefitting her reaction now, that he was completely at a loss.

“Don’t tell me,” G’dina repeated. “I don’t remember anything. And if a god shares his secrets with you alone, you don’t go spilling it to the next best person.”

“You think a god came down to Bellingham to talk to me?” Bobby snorted. “You’re crazy.”

“I may be unhinged, but I am not crazy.” G’dina’s voice was firm, but even she seemed to be unnerved. “I believe it was a god who spoke through me, but to you, maybe he’s something different. A spirit, or an ascended alien, or something. Whatever it was, you have the attention of some powerful folks, and I want as little to do with them as I can.”

Seeing her this distressed tugged at his heartstrings. “I am sorry? I just – I just wanted to know.”

“So you did.” Gathering her composure again, she forced herself to smile. “Did he tell you anything useful, after all?”

“Not really, mostly some really weird shit.”

“Sounds like him.”

“He told me all would be well, though.”

Bobby had meant this to calm G’dina, to tell her that there was nothing to worry about. But the effect could not have been more different if he had smacked her with a jackhammer. Suddenly, all her daredevil attitude seemed to drain out of her, and she staggered back to the chair she had been sitting on first.

“He really said that?” she all but whispered, her eyes moist.

“Yeah. ‘Was the last thing he said.”

“Those exact words?”

“All will be well.”

Wordlessly, G’dina clasped both her hands over her mouth, tears streaming from the corner of her eyes, her body rocking slowly back and forth.

Completely confused, Bobby stood there for a moment, but he just couldn’t bear the look of the old woman completely loosing her shit in front of him. With a few steps, he was at her side, gently putting a calming hand onto her skinny arm.

“Shh...” he said as gently as he could. “I am sure he meant it as a good thing.”

G’dina looked at him as if he hadn’t understood a single thing that had happened and broke into loud laughter despite the tears in her eyes.

“Oh you blessed clueless child,” she said, hugging Bobby firmly with her skinny, scarred arms. “I am sure he did.” Giving a deep sigh, she pushed Bobby away again and held him at arms length. “Don’t worry about an old woman like me. Just remember, if ever you want a tattoo, you ask for me, and I’ll be happy to oblige.”

“Okay...” Gently untangling himself from her, Bobby wondered if he had broken her last bits of sanity. “If I ever get a tattoo, I want something in the colour of my eyes.”

“Sure.” G’dina nodded, wiping the tears from her face. “It’ll be my honor.”

“Sure.” Giving her an insecure smile, Bobby asked: “Can I go now?”

“Of course.” She gave a vague wave of her hand towards the curtains. “Go, party like the others, have fun. I’ll be here for a while, getting my act together.”

Bobby was still completely at a loss as what to make of her reaction, so he only nodded her a respectful good-bye and left through the cheap, wet-dog smelling curtains. Had he really been talking to a deity tonight? Or had it just been the parlor tricks of an unhinged old woman and the gorr speaking to him?

But whatever it had been, he decided with a shrug, it could wait until tomorrow morning. Tonight, there was a party to join, and there wasn’t a sombre thought in the world that couldn’t be drowned in beer.

Or in another glass of gorr, for that matter.


	7. Chapter 7

There is a spring to the longest of winters  
there is a dawn to the longest of nights  
and wherever in darkness I wander  
my heart’s holding radiant lights.  
(traditional Bonfire Night prayer)

-

“You are a real naughty one, aren’t you?”

Bobby’s companion reacted with a chortling laugh to this purred allegation. Not that this companion warranted any special charm on Bobby’s side, but he was in a splendid mood and felt accordingly generous.

“I am only naughty when I am around such tempting company,” his companion retorted with an asinine grin, holding up Bobby’s coat as graciously as a man of his size possibly could.

Bobby replied with a flirty laughter of his own and slipped into the offered coat. This coat was one of the reasons he was so radiant despite the occasion - it was a luxurious winter coat made from sinfully supple burgundy leather, with just the tiniest fur trim and a high collar that made it snuggly as a blanket and drop-dead gorgeous at the same time. At this time of the year, it was a priceless asset.

It was the Festival of Lights again, Bonfire Night, and this year the weather was abysmal. Sleet was falling, pushed left and right by strong gushes of wind, the temperature hovering at the ugly point between thawing and freezing.

But their next stop would only be a few houses down the road, one last drink in a posh bar after a posh dinner in Bellingham’s only top-notch restaurant. Noticing his reflection in the restaurant’s door on the way out, Bobby felt his mood improve even more. The narrow cut of his coat made him look even taller, his hair freshly styled this afternoon cascaded down his left shoulder in ruby waves. Together with the pale green scarf and the single gold earring, he looked like some kind of movie star, or maybe even a noble.

His companion held the door open for him to pass through, and Bobby nodded graciously, sneakily fondling the amazing material of his coat again. It felt so wonderful. Considering that it fit Bobby’s lean frame like a glove, he had the strong suspicion that Julio must have had it tailored for him personally.

Fuck.

Inwardly, Bobby gnashed his teeth, his splendid mood dispersing like water from a popped balloon. There, he had spoiled it. A single thought and all the beautiful lies of the past hours fled like cockroaches when the light was turned on.

Yes, the coat had been a gift of Julio Mostarda, as a token of goodwill and gratitude for Bobby helping him out of a tight spot. One of Julio’s ‘business associates’ was stranded in town over Bonfire Night, and Bobby had agreed to make the poor man feel a little less lonely. Which meant a few hours in the company of a grinning, bumbling fool with grabby paws, dinner, a blowjob and a drink or two. Nothing more, nothing less. The coat had been an advance bonus to smooth over any ‘prejudice’ Bobby might have harbored, as Julio had put it.

In short, he was turning tricks for that despicable piece of slime that fancied himself a mob boss.

Bobby felt the distinctive taste of self-loathing rise in his throat, almost spoiling the impeccable dinner he had had only minutes earlier.

But on the other hand, what was he supposed to do? In a few months, he’d be out of school, and he’d have to live of something then. His mother’s pension only covered school-age children, so he’d have to start paying rent. No more free school lunches meant he’d have to earn some kind of living, and he still hadn’t found any job besides working at the plant. With his history of low grades and high spirits, he’d be shoveling fish offal for the rest of his life.

Definitely not an option.

So when Julio once again asked him to ‘help’, Bobby had agreed reluctantly. This was a one-time-only event, he had told him. A single blow-job, nothing more. Julio had agreed, and still offered a lot of money for the trick. The coat Julio had thrown in as a bonus almost managed to convince Bobby that he was doing the right thing. Almost.

But the worst was already over, now, Bobby tried to cheer himself up. It’s merely two drinks now and then it’d all be over and forgotten. Looking down at his companion, he hoped his smile was looking genuine enough to hide how disgusted he was at the whole setup. And apparently it was, the businessman looking up from his small eyes, twinkling with honest admiration, patting Bobby’s arm in a clumsy gesture of affection.

Bobby tried to hide his disgust under a renewed smile and a flirty wink.

As soon as they could, they left the street again and slipped into the Downtown Market, an area of Bellingham’s old inner city where the narrow roads had been covered and turned into a maze of shops and bars all year round. It was quite pretty, actually, modeled after the famous rainshields of Imperial City’s downtown.

But tonight was Bonfire Night, and except for a few pubs, the place was basically deserted. Pretty much everyone was at home with their families, celebrating the longest night of the year and the foreseeable end of winter. At least, this minimized the chances that Bobby would run into some of his friends.

“If I had known that I’d end up with such wonderful company,” Bobby’s companion suddenly started, “I’d have planned a longer stay.”

“You old charmer. There must be a whole bunch of pretty boys in the capital, desperately waiting for you.”

“Forget them, they’re just whores. You’re different.”

Bobby felt his fake smile waver at this back-handed compliment. What was he supposed to say to that? Did that guy really expect him to be grateful?

“Thank you,” Bobby whispered, his forced cheer making his voice sound husky. “You are very kind.”

His companion eyed him pensively for a moment. Then his grip on Bobby’s arm changed from gently supportive to firmly grabbing within a single heartbeat, his eyes turning hard and hungry.

“You know, this evening doesn’t have to be over already, know what I mean?” he suggested, the sudden leer in his voice leaving no doubt about his intentions. “We could spend at least some more time together.”

“I am sorry,” Bobby said, alarmed. “But as pleasant as this evening has been, you’ve already had all the ‘time’ you paid for.”

His face frozen in a hard, calculating expression, the john pulled Bobby into a dark shop entrance.

“I know what I’ve paid for, and I don’t want anything for free.” His voice had become a low snarl, and the threat was not lost on Bobby. “What I get, I pay, and neither of us has to tell that little weasel you’re working for.”

As much as Bobby liked the thought of cutting Julio out of his share, this was going in the wrong direction entirely. The john pushed him against the wall with his considerable weight, holding Bobby’s arm with one hand, his other trying to sneak inside his coat and under his pullover.

“This is not a help-yourself-arrangement,” Bobby stated coldly. “You’ve got all I am willing to give, and that’s it.”

“You arrogant little shit,” the john hissed, his grip on Bobby’s arm growing painfully tight. “You may be pretty, but that’s over as soon as my boot hits your face a few times. You really want that?”

“You want the Mostardas on your ass? They look out for their own...”

“As if that little weasel Julio could get his hands on family property,” the john spat. “We both know you’re just one of his little expendable side projects, so don’t you get haughty on me, little shit!”

That remark filled Bobby with a cold wave of dread. He hadn’t really thought he’d be part of the family business with this one arrangement, but so far he had been nicely able to ignore the potential danger he was in. This was definitely going all the wrong way.

“Oi!” a deep male voice suddenly called out in the street in front of them. “Everything alright, there?”

Both Bobby and his john looked around, more surprised than anything as neither of them had heard anyone approaching. There was a group of Youh’Kai standing, wet and hunched, wearing heavy boots and cheap leather jackets. The speaker was an olive-green-skinned Youh’Kai, his open jacket showing a bare chest, muscled and wet with rain.

“T’sule, is that you?”

The Youh’Kai grunted something affirmative. “You okay, Bobby?”

“I’m fine,” he replied instantly. The last thing he needed now was a bunch of volatile Youh’Kai messing up the situation even more than it already was. “It’s okay, just leave us be.”

“We’re merely negotiating business,” his john added, cold as a cod. “Get lost.”

For a moment, the Youh’Kai seemed to be happy with that. But then a skinny Youh’Kai girl slipped next to T’sule, her voice shy yet still loud enough to be overheard.

“They’re lying,” she said, nervously fingering a narrow braid of her bright pink hair. “He wants to rape him.”

She underlined her words by pointing her outstretched index finger accusingly at the john, who blanched with silent anger.

“Alien vermin!” he hissed through his teeth, letting go of Bobby and taking a threatening step towards the Youh’Kai. “This is none of your fucking business!”

Faster than a human eye could see, T’sule was right in front of him and slapped him square across the face with a resounding slap.

“He’s one of us,” he stated firmly. “Who are you?”

The john had staggered back from the surprising impact, but caught himself almost instantly. With a motion that spoke of way too much practice, he suddenly pulled a gun from out of his jacket, the small blaster gleaming dull black in the low light.

“Get lost, alien scum, or I’ll splatter your slimy entrails all over -”

Once again, T’sule moved faster than a human eye could follow. He had been standing right in front of the john, but then slid to the right of him so fast he seemed like a horizontal blur and dropped into a vicious high kick that hit the john right in the side of his head. The man slammed to the ground like a felled tree and remained motionless, the unused blaster still in his hand.

“Fucking sqet.” T’sule commented into the resulting silence.

Still standing in the doorway, Bobby let go of a breath he hadn’t even noticed he was holding.

“Bobby, are you alright?”

“Is he dead?” Bobby didn’t even dare to think of the consequences.

“No idea. Do we care?” T’sule seemed positively nonplussed. “What were you doing out here with that loser anyway? Aren’t you supposed to light electric candles with your family tonight?”

The snide remark got him a few snickers from his friends, but his care for Bobby seemed genuine.

“No family left.” Bobby replied flatly, still trying to figure out what to do now. Julio would have his hide if he learned that his ‘associate’ was attacked by some of Bobby’s friends.

“Sucks, man.” For a moment, T’sule seemed lost in thought, then he added with a broad smile: “What about you come with your tribe instead?”

“What?”

“Your tribe,” T’sule replied with a pointy-toothed grin, gesturing at himself and his friends. “Who the fuck cares about genetics? You drink gorr with the best of us, that’s all we need to know.”

His friends seemed to share his generous invitation, judging by their amused and eager expressions.

“You should really come,” the girl with the pink tresses said. “T’sule’s band’s got an open recital tonight.”

“You’ve got a band?”

T’sule nodded, his face lighting up with something halfway between pride and embarrassment. “The Singing Bloodclods. Youh’Kai hard rock. We’re really bad.”

“Oh that’s not true,” the girl objected. “The singer is really bad, and the name is complete bullshit. But T’sule is pretty awesome.”

Somehow, Bobby found himself struggling with the image of his Youh’Kai friend playing in a band. It was such an inappropriately human concept that he found himself grinning despite everything. “So, if you don’t sing - what do you do? Play the guitar?”

“Drums.”

To illustrate his point, T’sule started banging on imaginary drums in the air around him, his motions speeding up more and more until he resembled a blurred, many-armed, green skinned deity in wet biker leathers. He finished his airdrum solo abruptly by raising his fists over his head, head hanging down, panting and laughing at the same time. Perfect rockstar mannerisms if there ever were any.

“Alright, that’s a show I want to see. Count me in.” Now laughing himself, Bobby shook his head, carefully stepping over the body of his john. “What about him?”

“Unconscious.” The girl remarked lightly. “He’ll recover soon enough.”

“How can you be sure about that?”

She smiled, tipping her forehead between her eyes. “Empath.”

“Oh.” Sometimes, it was all too easy to forget that all Youh’Kai had some supernatural talent of sorts. “Of course.”

Her smile turned enigmatic, and she cocked her head, adding: “You had some kind of obligation to that asshole.”

“I... “ Bobby took a deep breath. If there was one thing he had learned about the Youh’Kai, it was that they valued blunt honesty. “I was paid to keep him company tonight, you know, close company. Kinda messed that one up, now.”

“Wasn’t your fault,” T’sule replied with a shrug, seamlessly ignoring the fact that Bobby had just told them he was a part-time hustler. “There was some aliens that attacked you. Completely unprovoked.”

“Totally unprovoked,” the girl agreed. “You know how these aliens are. Vicious.”

“Crazy,” another Youh’Kai added.

“Filthy,” yet another one. “Stinking.” “Lazy.” “Beetle-eaters.” “Murderous.” “Conniving.” “Did we have vicious already?”

The chorus of insults was so perfectly well-trained and so smoothly presented that Bobby had to laugh out loud.

“And of course,” T’sule continued jovially while putting his arm around Bobby’s shoulder and gently leading him away, “you ran for your life. No one can blame you that your short friend here couldn’t keep up the pace.”

“Of course,” Bobby confirmed, slowly understanding where this was leading and liking it very much.

“See, nothing of this was your fault,” T’sule went on. “Unfortunately, you can’t give any details on your attackers. You know how these aliens are, they all look the same.”

This time, Bobby heard a snarling laugh from behind. Turning around, he found the whole gang only a few steps behind them, a dozen pointy-toothed grins in dark faces, moving soundlessly like predators. Bobby suddenly realized he had never felt safer in his whole life.

“You’re not doing this the first time, are you?” Bobby asked, grinning.

But T’sule only shrugged noncommittally. “Say, do you make any kind of music, perhaps?”

“Me? No, god forbid. That’s something for guys with a talent.” Laughing, Bobby added: “But I am a pretty mean dancer.”

“Really?” T’sule seemed genuinely intrigued. “Then I look forward to see you dance tonight.”

“I might be needing a pole for that, though...”

The joke seemed to be entirely lost on T’sule.

He looked puzzled for a moment, but then smoothly replied: “No idea what you’d be needing a pole for, but we’ll get you one. That’s gonna be interesting.”

“Oh, you bet it will.”

This was looking to become the longest night indeed.


	8. The fox-tailed Dragon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a long, dispiriting day at school and an afternoon of being bullied by Julio Mostarda, the last thing you want to find at home is a flirty Dracon in your hallway...

“Julio, of course I know it’s Lovers’ Night.” 

Rolling his eyes, Bobby was glad he was merely speaking on the phone. Julio Mostarda would have been furious if he had seen the faces Bobby was making. 

“And no, I am not ‘available’ tonight. You can’t just call me and expect me to jump.” Once again, Bobby told himself not to give in. Julio was offering good money, and the job seemed pretty straightforward. But so had the last one, on Bonfire Night, and he still remembered vividly how that had turned out. Bobby really saw no point in giving Julio the impression that he was depending on his irregular if generous offers. “Julio, for the last time, no! Go find one of your regular whores. I’ve already got a date tonight.”

Flipping shut his mobile phone, Bobby sighed deeply. 

He still didn’t have a job, he still didn’t have a future, and he didn’t even have a date on Lovers’ Night. It was depressing. 

Mandy’s father had lately been more and more distracted by his 'art', to the point that Mandy had to work regular hours there, cutting their shared time painfully short. 

T’sule had turned out to be a real friend, cool and supportive, but he had even less of a clue what to do with his life. Bobby harbored the suspicion that the young Youh’Kai was seriously thinking he’d one day make it big as a musician. What a sweet fool, Bobby snorted silently. 

Deeply lost in his thoughts, Bobby entered the building block where he lived with his mother and remaining siblings. A large, smelly complex of small, social housing flats, it was like a giant brick of condensed misery, a seven-floored epitaph of dead hopes and aborted dreams. 

Bobby cursed silently as he noticed the small yellow note on the elevator door. Out of service, once again. Wonderful, it had been repaired just the other day. Not that Bobby could remember the elevator working for more than four weeks all together in his entire life, but it was really the last thing he needed today. 

They had been given the dates for their finals today at school, and also a date for the visit of the recruiter for the stockfish factory. A date that filled Bobby with more dread than he could put into words. The factory recruiter would come and talk with them about their career options in the factory, that wonderful and generous factory that gave life and livelihood to Bellingham, and only asked for their souls in return. 

On his way up the stairs, all six stories, Bobby wondered silently if he should just skip school that day. It would mean he’d never get a job at the factory, except maybe as a auxiliary shoveling offal. But he really couldn’t face the prospect of someone benevolently telling him how to spend the rest of his life. Especially not if the options were so horrifyingly boring. 

There had to be options in his life other than whore or factory worker! 

When Bobby arrived on the floor of his mother’s flat, he noticed that his hands were shaking. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes for a moment and then lit a cigarette. Smoking always helped calm his nerves, Bobby found, and it kept him from eating too much. Being skinny and pretty so far were his only identifiable advantages, so he’d better not squander those. 

He was still so lost in his thoughts that he noticed the person standing in front of his mother’s flat only in the very last moment. No, not a person, Bobby corrected himself instantly – a noble. A Dracon noble. No one else would dare dress all black. 

Instinctively, Bobby pretended to knock at their neighbor’s flat. Whatever the noble wanted here, Bobby definitely didn’t want to be noticed by him. Nobles were trouble, big time trouble. And Dracon were the worst of them. 

“Are you Bobby?” 

All but freezing in his motion, Bobby for a heartbeat considered running away. But if Dracon were anything as he had heard, that would only trigger his hunting reflexes. Better to show no fear, then. 

“Maybe I am.” Forcing himself to smile smoothly, Bobby turned around, facing the noble. “And who are you?” 

“I am Squire Vian Dracon,” the noble replied and sketched a polite nod of his head. “At your service.”

Looking at the noble properly for the first time, Bobby realized that he wasn’t human, at least not entirely. Of course, he had two arms and two legs, but he had ears like a cat, or some kind of squirrel, sitting high on his head and currently attentively pointing towards Bobby. Squire Vian also had a fine sheen of fur on his shoulders, cheeks and bare chest, caramel with a white bib, leaving only his belly and lower arms to show tanned skin under his sleeveless open leather jacket. There was a strange cast to his nose and upper lip, too, giving him an oddly animalistic expression. But most importantly, he seemed to be barely older than Bobby, with large green eyes that sparkled with intrigue. 

If it hadn’t been for that dreadful Dracon outfit, he’d been one of the most exotically handsome creatures Bobby had seen in his life. 

“I am pretty sure you are Bobby, you look just like he said.”

“Who said?” 

“Wayne.”

“You know Wayne?” Suddenly, Bobby felt his heart beat in his throat. “How? Where is he? And what did he tell you?”

At this, Squire Vian laughed out loud, a surprisingly deep and almost purring sound that made tiny wanton shivers run down Bobby’s back. Damn, what a sexy beast, he thought. What a shame he’s a noble. 

“Wayne said you’re his pretty little brother, cocky as shit and constantly getting into trouble.”

“That... sounds like him.”

“Yeah.” Wiping his nose in a surprisingly shy gesture, he added: “He also said I am to keep my paws off you or he’ll shave my tail.”

“Your tail?” 

Instead of an answer, Vian turned around and pointed at the bushy tail at his back, caramel and white as the rest of him. It looked like a fox’s tail with its white tip, and currently was swaying restlessly with what looked like curiosity and excitement to Bobby. Together with Squire Vian’s equally expressive ears, the noble seemed almost ridiculously easy to read. But of course, that could be deceiving. He was a Dracon, after all. 

Not really knowing what to say, Bobby stared at this sudden guest in barely hidden fascination. Squire Vian was quite athletic, the muscles of his arms and chest visible even underneath the fine layer of fur. Of course, he had a pin in the shape of a coiled red dragon on the lapel of his jacket that definitely muted his appeal. But there was another medallion on a fine chain around his neck that Bobby couldn’t identify instantly. 

Only after a while Bobby realized that it was a golden phoenix, its wings raised high as if taking flight. The coat of arms of the Phoenix Knights. The recognition made Bobby’s heart skip a beat. What the hell was a Phoenix Squire doing here, at their flat in Bellingham?   
The way the medallion nestled between Vian’s bulging pectorals distracted Bobby for longer than he had wanted, but in the end, it also explained why that guy seemed so familiar. 

“Now I know where I have seen you before!” he said, his voice far steadier than he felt himself. “My little sister has a poster of you over her bed. She’s a great fan of your sister, Lady Myriam.”

Squire Vian smiled self-consciously, his ears drooping just a little bit, making him look like the most adorable creature in the Empire. A fact that Bobby chose to ignore studiously. 

“I can get her an autograph, if she wants.” Vian suggested. 

For a long moment, they just stared at each other in silence. Bobby really had no clue what to say, his thoughts circling frantically around the fact that this was a Dracon Phoenix Knight Squire and one of the persons of the entire Empire he should really, really avoid at any cost. That Squire Vian was an exotic, dastardly handsome half-human with the most adorable ears didn’t help at all. 

Luckily, that was the moment when Bobby heard loud voices from inside his mother’s flat. One of them was his mother’s, nervous and aggressive as always. The other one took Bobby a moment longer to identify, but when he did, it brought everything Squire Vian had said crashing back into his mind. 

“Wayne? Wayne is here?” Bobby asked, incredulous. 

“He wanted to see his family, tell you he is well.”

“Oh my god. Is he alright? Did you rescue him?”

At the question, Vian raised a surprised eyebrow, his ears pointing in different directions for a second. “I bought him,” Vian corrected cautiously. “But I think he’s fine, at least, he was until he went in there and started shouting at your mother.”

“I... I really think I should go in and talk to them,” Bobby suggested, hesitating though as he would have to pass right in front of Squire Vian to get to the door. 

But Vian noticed Bobby’s discomfort and stepped aside, smiling shyly. Damn, he was cute.

“I think you should, else Wayne might do something he regrets later.” Vian said, smiling. The he hesitated, the tiny tip of a pink tongue between his lips. “Actually, do you have any plans, Bobby Dover, this Friday night?”

“What?!” Stopping dead in his tracks, Bobby wasn’t sure if he had heard right. 

“I mean, maybe we could go out, you know? The two of us? Dinner and a movie, or something. Shouldn’t tell Wayne, though.”

This was all moving way too fast for Bobby. Was that Dracon asking him out? While Wayne was in the other room, threatening to beat up their mother? What the fuck was happening here?

“You don’t have to answer right now,” Vian said, his expression cautiously hopeful and actually quite adorable. “Here, take my card, you can call me anytime.” 

Reflexively, Bobby took the offered card, putting it into the pocket of his jacket without even looking at it. Had he just been asked out on a date by a Dracon? This was fishy in so many ways he didn’t even know how to say no without getting himself whipped. 

But right then, something large fell onto the floor inside the flat and shattered loudly. With an apologetic smile, Bobby shrugged and pushed himself past Squire Vian into his mother’s flat, closing the door carefully behind him. 

In the narrow hallway, the twins were standing, staring open-mouthed through the open door into their mother’s bedroom, where Bobby could hear Wayne’s deep voice growling. 

“You miserable excuse of a mother... you were supposed to help us, not the other way ‘round, for fuck’s sake! Get that into your fucking head, you wreck!” 

It was Wayne, unmistakably, even without seeing him. Nodding a hopefully calming greeting to the twins, Bobby sneaked inside the bedroom to see what he could possibly salvage of the situation. 

As usual, their mother was sitting on her bed, a huge pile of unwashed woman in a tent-like nightshift, white with tiny forget-me-nots. Wayne, one the other hand, looked like nothing Bobby had ever imagined. He sure was still short and broad-shouldered, with slightly protruding ears and carroty hair. But Wayne was also deeply tanned, even a little sunburnt on his nose, his face thickly covered in freckles, his simple shirt bulging over the lean muscles of his arms. If not for the simple leather collar around his neck, he looked as if just having returned from the most amazing, healthy vacation of his life. A studmuffin troll for sure, now. 

“Help me!” their mother suddenly croaked. “Bobby, he’s come back to get my money! He’s trying to kill me!”

Not even willing to acknowledge the delusional remark of their mother, Bobby just rolled his eyes and smiled wryly at Wayne. Before his brother could say or do anything that would get their mother worked up even more, Bobby silently pointed out of the door. A little surprisingly, Wayne followed his suggestion wordlessly, and even waited before he said anything until Bobby had closed the door behind them again. 

Then, in the hallway, they stared at each other for a long moment, Bobby noticing with silent wonder that his brother’s hair was beginning to bleach at the tips, looking like too much sun and salt water. 

Finally, Wayne broke into a wide grin, his teeth appearing startlingly white against his tanned skin. 

“You little shit!” he said and threw himself around Bobby in a massive bearhug that lifted him off the ground. “Have you grown in the last months? Are you okay? You look starving! How’s the gang doing?” 

„You‘re alive.“ Bobby summed up what had been on his mind all the time. “And you look... God, you look fucking great!”

Wayne had the decency to look embarrassed. 

“I got lucky,” he explained with a lopsided smirk. “Vian buying me was... more luck than I deserved.” 

“Is he treating you alright?” 

“Vian? Yeah, he’s fine. He’s an asshole, sometimes, but, you know, like an asshole bloke, not a noble. Most of the time he’s cool.”

“So you’re the slave of a Phoenix Knight Squire.” Bobby repeated loudly what he still found hard to believe. “What are you actually doing, are you, like, doing his laundry?”

Suddenly, a shadow slipped across Wayne’s expression. 

“No. We... work together.” Taking a deep breath, he added so softly it was almost a whisper: “I am his pet.”

“You’re his pet?!” it burst out of Bobby, disbelieving. “YOU?!”

“There’s nothing wrong with that.” Wayne sounded positively defiant. 

“Holy fuck. I mean, really?” Not sure how to word this, Bobby offered a vulgar gesture that left little to imagination. “All the way?”

“Sure, where’s the problem? Even you can do it.” 

But as cool as Wayne tried to sound, he couldn’t suppress a sudden violent blush, and Bobby needed a heartbeat to figure out what was going on. 

“You LIKE it!” he exclaimed in deep fascination. “You like fucking that alien in the hallway!”

Again, Wayne blushed, his expression growing rather angry. “So, and? What do you care?” Taking another deep breath, Wayne calmed down again. “It was... it was a harsh learning curve. Beats being taken for test drives on the markets by a mile.”

“Shit.” Bobby could only too well imagine what ‘taking a slave for a test drive’ meant in that context. “I am sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Hugging Bobby again, Wayne smiled cheekily. “Put things into perspective big time. And Vian’s really okay for a noble.”

“Yeah, he seemed quite nice, out in the hallway.”

“Did he make a pass on you?” Wayne all but growled. “I told him he was to keep his filthy paws off you, or I swear by God I will shave his tail!”

“He was nice, Wayne, nothing more.” Bobby was so happy seeing his over-protective brother back again that he didn’t even feel angry at Wayne deciding who he should date or not. “No need to shave anything.”

“Good for him.” Grinning, Wayne tousled the twins who had followed their exchange with wide eyes. “How are you getting by? I tried to talk to mum, but we all know how that turned out.”

“We make do.” No need to bother him with the truth. “Cash is short, as always, but we’re fine. We’ll survive.”

“Good, good.” Looking at his wristwatch, Wayne cursed softly. “Damn. Dinner’s in an hour, and I promised Vian to show him the factory and our school.” Looking up to Bobby, he added: “I will write, I promise, yes? I just had to see and tell you I’m not rotting in some mine or something.”

“Even if your master allows you to write, Wayne, don’t you think you should know how to write first? We both know that’s not your strong suit.”

“I can write, now. Vian’s put writing courses on my training schedule, and turns out that it wasn’t me who was stupid, but our teachers.”

“You got a training schedule? What the hell is he training you for, I thought you’re his pet?” 

Again, Wayne seemed a little embarrassed. 

“He wants me to train my mechanical skills. They’ve got all sorts of weird psions already in their family, but a good techie would fit great into his team, he says.”

“His team? Wayne, dear, why do I get the impression you’re not telling me everything?”

For a second Wayne squirmed uncomfortably, but then rolled his eyes. “I don’t know. It’s probably not going to work out anyway.”

“What’s not going to work out?”

“You know, Vian’s going to be a Phoenix Knight one day, yes?”

“No.” The finer workings of the Phoenix Tower and the intentions of the Emperor had so far not been on his daily reading list. But maybe that would have to change now. At least, Bobby would make sure to read his sister’s Quest Log from now on. “Just go on.”

“And he said if I manage to pass the courses I need, he might take me up as his squire.”

For a long moment, Bobby had to fight the strong urge not to slap his brother. 

“You hit the fucking jackpot, you know that?” he exclaimed incredulously. “I can’t believe that you’ve been living every boy's dream for the last half year and kept us believing you were dead!”

“I don’t think boys dream of the pet part.”

“Ha! Have you even LOOKED at your owner?” Bobby felt close to hysteric. “I’d pay my last credit to just watch the two of you getting it on.”

“Eugh,” the twins exclaimed in unison. “Gross.”

“Fucking eugh indeed. Damn, you’re still sick.“ With an apologetic look, Wayne explained: “I didn’t know if it was all good. Still don’t know for sure. But once I was quite sure, I had to convince Vian to bring me here. I didn’t want to just write or use the psions’ guild or something. I am here now.” 

“I know, I know.” Now taking a deep breath himself, Bobby forced himself to calm down. “This is all moving a little too fast. But you have no idea how happy I am you are well. We missed you so much.”

“And I missed you. You tell the others I am fine, will you?”

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. 

“Yes?” both Bobby and Wayne called out simultaneously. 

Cautiously, the door was opened and Squire Vian pushed his furry nose inside. “Wayne? If we still want to visit your old haunts, we should go now. And I really would like to see that horrible factory that you told me about, I’ve never seen a place where they make stockfish breakfast flakes.”

“We really should leave, then.” Wayne said. “Colin’s going completely ballistic when someone’s too late for dinner.”

That name rang a bell even with Bobby. After all, re-runs of the Demon Witches of Leichnam were a perfect romantic occasion for blowjobs in the last row of the theater. “You’re having dinner with the demon baker of Leichnam?”

“His dad, yes.”

“He really hates it when we’re late for dinner.” Vian explained from his place at the door. “And he hates that demon-baker business, he insists he was just used as a pawn in the whole affair, so you better never mention this when you meet him.”

“Bobby is NOT going to meet your parents!” Wayne snapped so instantly that it was almost comical. “We talked about this, and you will fucking keep your filthy paws off him! Fucking once you can keep your fucking pants on, for fuck’s sake!”

Apologetically, Vian raised his hands, looking like innocence personified. “I was just trying to prevent a disaster.”

“Same as I...” Wayne growled. Then he turned back to his brothers, grinning. “Alright, I gotta go, he’s getting bored. Kiss Bethany from me, and tell the gang I said hi, will you?”

“Sure,” Bobby replied, still feeling a little too stunned to make much sense of all of this. Wayne was alive! 

“Great. Gotta go.” 

Turning around, he pushed past Vian who was still standing in the doorframe and seized the opportunity to smack him on the bottom. 

“Stop it!” Wayne growled, already in the hallway. 

But Vian seemed entirely unimpressed, a wide and excited smile on his face. For a split second, Bobby was sure he could see the tip of his tongue between Vian’s lips again, before the Phoenix Knight Squire winked at him and gestured at the side of his face, thumb and pinkie pointing outward. 

‘Call me!’ he mouthed soundlessly before smiling once more. 

“Nice to meet you,” he then added loudly, “I’ll send you the autographs for your sister, as promised. See you around!”

And before Bobby could say anything smart, Vian had closed the door behind him. 

“Whoa,” one of the twins commented dryly. “Bethany is going to eat her knickers for not being here now.”

He had a point there. Beth was the only one in their family who had ever cared for Phoenix Knights and their stories, and missing out on the opportunity of meeting a Phoenix Knight Squire would be unspeakable. At least, the promised autographs would appease her mightily. 

Looking down at the twins, Bobby realized he really had to talk to someone about this. 

“Boys, go play for a while, I’ll make dinner later. Need to make a phone call.” Not really waiting for an answer, Bobby walked out of their flat, his fingers already dialing before he was out on the hallway. 

“Mandy?” he asked, his heart still beating in his throat. “Mandy, you’re not going to believe what just happened...”


End file.
